

COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT 



V 



















































CONTENTS. 


Chanter Page 

I. THE STORM STRIKES MR. STRAIGHT 23 

II. SHADOWS AND SUSPICIONS 30 

III. MR. STRAIGHT’S PROPOSITION 39 

IV. THE PARTING 48 

V. THE REVEL AND ITS MYSTERIES 57 

VI. WHAT FLORA’S VISIT TO THE MANSION DIS- 
CLOSES 70 

VII. A TRYST AND AN UNPLEASANT REVELATION. 81 

VIII. THE MYSTERIOUS APARTMENT 90 

IX. THE STRANGER AND THE MUTE 99 

X. A NEW ACQUAINTANCE 108 

XI. MRS. BANKS’ PROGRAMME 114 

XII. BROUGHT FACE TO FACE 124 

XIII. CONFOUNDED 136 

XIV. AN ANGEL OF LIGHT 144 

XV. ON THE VERGE 157 

XVI. THE GRAND BALL 164 

XVII. A LETTER FROM FRANK 176 

XVIII. HOW MRS. BANKS WAS STARTLED 182 


( 21 ) 


22 


CONTENTS. 


Chapter. Page. 

XIX. UNEXPECTED DEVELOPMENTS 190 

XX. FORTUNE SMILES ON THE STRAIGHTS .... 201 

XXI. SOME COMFORT FOR FLORA 216 

XXII. A NEW MOVE 225 

XXIII. A REVELATION 236 

XXIV. THE TRUTH, NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH . . . 244 

XXV. THE DUEL AND ITS RESULT 257 

XXVI. RESTORED 268 

XXVII. VAIDEN HALL YIELDS UP ITS SECRET .... 272 




CHAPTER I. 

THE STORM STRIKES MR. STRAIGHT. 

J UST as the vibrations of the last ringing sound of the 
clock on the mantle-tree were dying, like the faint 
whirs of a death bell, Mr. Straight’s step was heard at 
the door. He had been detained later than usual that 
night; it was his habit to be at home with his family much 
earlier. The hands were over the figure 12, and the clock 
had stopped running. Mr. Straight, apparently wearied, 
glanced up at the time-piece, as he seated himself, and 
remarked: 

“It is midnight!” 

The arm of the speaker hung down carelessly over the 
side of the table on which it rested; his head — somewhat 
bowed — inclined slightly to one side, while his counte- 
nance indicated a mind wrestling with strange or troubled 
thoughts — thoughts refusing to be banished. 

( 23 ) 


24 


THE STORM STRIKES MR. STRAIGHT. 


Mrs. Straight, who had been waiting patiently, and 
wondering what kept her husband out so late, now sat 
near, observing, with some anxiety his agitated and de- 
jected appearance. There was a momentary suspense, 
finally broken by Mr. Straight turning his chair so as 
more directly to face his wife and to bring himself closer 
up to her, as. in a lowered tone of voice, he said: 

“ Ellen, we are almost beggars! The storm has struck 
me and I cannot weather it. We are financially wrecked ! ” 
The monetary panic then prevailing over the country, 
prostrating business, sweeping away not only shells, but 
also engulfing in the wreck substantial houses, and bring- 
ing down the wealthy everywhere to poverty, was now 

felt in the town of R . A large local inland trade 

was carried on at this point, and considerable capital 
within a few weeks preceding the crash had been scattered 
in the rural districts. Mr. Straight had advanced largely 
to the farming interest during the season, and was caught 
by the suddenness of the demands of the market which 
closed the banks and shut off loans, and his paper had gone 
to protest. His announcement, however, startled his wife, 
who, struggling to repress the emotions aroused by the 
shock, replied: . 

“ James, what has happened now? You expressed 
every confidence in your business stability from the first 
intimation you had of the coming crash. ” 

“The blow came from an unexpected quarter/’ After 
pausing a moment and nervously twitching his watch- 
guard, Mr. Straight continued: “Frank has failed.” 

The tears almost unconsciously gathering on the wife’s 
cheeks were wiped off in silence, while a strong arm stole 


THE STORM STRIKES MR. STRAIGHT. 


25 


softly around her to assure her that, if wealth and posi- 
tion were rapidly vanishing, affection and sympathy — ever 
the pillars of their househc^ji happiness — still remained to 
contend against the lowering storm about breaking over 
their home. 

Frank Eldon and Grade Straight were soon to have 
been married. It was this fact which gave poignancy to 
the bitterness contained in Mr. Straight's last remark to 
his wife, and for the while produced a profound sadness, 
as the two sat there in silence, neither daring to give 
utterance to words that would disturb the deep feeling 
within. The hands of the clock on the mantle-board still 
pointed to midnight, and it was midnight in the crushing 
weight of darkness hanging over this family. The shad- 
ows had settled down on a happy household, and who 
could tell, at this hour of gloom, that the sunshine would 
ever break the folds and gild with rays of hope the por- 
tals of the heart in the clearing of the rising day within ? 

The conversation of the husband and wife had been 
brief, but another listener had heard and comprehended 
it all. Gracie, the oldest daughter, had entered the room 
unobserved, and now advancing stood close to her parents 
like a statue, her cheeks suffused with an ashen pale- 
ness and her long tresses, flowing down upon either side 
of her neck, hanging disheveled over her shoulders. 
Rigid and motionless for the moment, no picture of an 
apparition, in the silent attitude of appeal, could have 
touched more keenly the tender chords in the breasts of 
those who dream and think of dear ones passed away 
than that thus presented by this loveable child to these 
fond parents, calling up their deepest sympathies by her 


26 


THE STORM STRIKES MR. STRAIGHT. 


distress. Her eyes moistened by the waters of grief 
welling up from a heart full of anguish, she, at last, threw 
herself into a vacant chair, burning her face in her hands. 
After the first paroxysm of trouble within was exhausted, 
turning her tear-bedewed cheeks toward her father, she 
said : 

“ I could not rest to-night ; oppressed by strange sensa- 
tions of dread I was unable to comprehend, I came here 
to learn what kept you away from us so late, hoping to 
gain some relief — ” 

“ Which you do not find/' interrupted her father. 

“ Yes, perhaps, to that feeling — ” 

“ However, at the expense of having your premonitions 
realized. ” 

“ Your coming, my dear child, finds no solace, no com- 
fort, to reward it in the words you have heard, ” re- 
marked the mother, sadly, but in a tone of deep sympathy. 

“ It is as well to have heard the disclosure in this way 
and at this time. ” After a brief pause Gracie contin- 
ued : “ I comprehend it all, and you are spared the task, 

sorely distressing to your minds, of further disclosing the 
sad news of our financial downfall through Franks mis- 
fortune, and the consequences which must result in our 
relation to society here. ” 

“ Your reference to Frank reminds me that a note was 
handed me from him just before I left the store. I had 
forgotten it. ” 

With this remark Mr. Straight drew from a side 
pocket, where he had deposited it, the paper referred to. 
Gracie looked up as if encouraged by a faint hope that 
the missive might be intended for her ; but if she enter- 


THE STORM STRIKES MR, STRAIGHT. 


27 


tained it, the hope, as slight as it may have been, was 
dispelled by a sadder disappointment in the contents, 
which read briefly as follows : 

“ I have made some arrangements. See Mr. Mullins 
without delay in the morning. I leave to-night. Mr. 
Mullins will explain all. “Frank Eldon. ” 

Who can copy heart emotions — reveal the silent mean- 
ing of tears, or give expression to their deep significance 
in words ? This note held out a promise, but it contained 
no word of comfort to Gracie Straight. That night in 
whispered accents she related the story of the family mis- 
fortune to her sister Flora ; but after the mystic messen- 
ger of nightly repose brought its soothings to Flora, Gra- 
cie thought over Franks departure without leave-taking 
and her mind was sorely afflicted at the disappointment 
she experienced. To her he was dearer than a brother, 
for the day of their wedding had been determined upon. 
How could he then abruptly leave town after the trouble 
came without first coming to her with some word of 
cheer or hope ? Her mind dwelt painfully upon this one 
idea. But suddenly a reaction came, and her sensibility, 
so touched by her first disappointment, was relieved by 
the suggestion of an apology for his abrupt leaving in 
the fact that the disaster he had met, in a reverse of for- 
tune, had brought bankruptcy also upon her father. 
However innocent he might be, he could not remain there 
and look upon the ruin. He must escape or instantly 
find means to avert the pending evil. Such were the so- 
lacing reflections into which her mind drifted, and her 


28 


THE STORM STRIKES MR. STRAIGHT. 


heart ached to think of Frank thus alone, when, if ever, 
he now might have found her a comforting force, with 
whom to contend against the first wave of adversity that 
had rolled up in threatening aspect over their happiness. 

There are strange coincidences often occurring in life. 
Here is an illustration of one of remarkable consequen- 
ces, the exact effect of which will not be traced out until 
we reach the last word of the final chapter of this most 
singular narrative. The purport of Mr. Eldon’s note 
was not fully comprehended and its contents were not 
discussed. It was, however, evident that the missive had 
been hurriedly written. Mr. Straight would shortly 
visit Mr. Mullins’ home, but how different would be the 
conditions of his going and the explanation he would 
receive from those suggested in the brief lines from 
Frank Eldon; and what an odd chain of circumstances 
would be linked together out of the event urging him 
there. 

As the gray dawn announced the coming morn, and 
ere Mr. Straight had fallen asleep, for he could not sleep 
that night, a loud rap at his door and a call alarmed him. 
Without hearing further particulars, he prepared at once 
for the street. As he went out, the excitement of the 
gathering throng and the murmur of voices down the 
avenue convinced him that something quite unusual had 
disturbed the quiet of the town in no common way. 

The sun was above the horizon when he returned to 
find his family anxiously awaiting his coming. One 
glance into his face was enough, and each alike shrank 
from a disclosure that was foreseen to contain unwelcome 


news. 


THE STORM STRIKES MR. STRAIGHT. 29 

Mr. Straight’s first words were low and indistinct, but 
his tone was louder and his emphasis clearer — solemnly 
so — at the end : 

“ He is dead ! ” 

The sentence was uttered slowly, and with that pecu- 
liar stress which always clothes such announcements, 
when the event indicated is in some way or other allied 
to our sympathies. 

Mrs. Straight by an effort forced out, rather than vol- 
untarily uttered, the interrogation : 

u Who is dead? ” 

Then the explanation came of an event which added a 
deeper fold to the shadows of that night, which already 
hung over this family. 


80 ' 


SHADOWS AND SUSPICIONS. 


CHAPTER II. 

SHADOWS AND SUSPICIONS. 

“ ‘They say’ — Ah ! well, suppose they do ; 

But can they prove the story true? ” 

I T was a singular event, that tale of horror ; to some it 
was sad. Mr. Bailey Mullins had been found dead in 
his humble home that morning, some time before the sun 
reddened the east at its rising. It was this event which 

had excited the inhabitants of the town so early. R 

had its good and its bad elements of society, but nothing 
of this kind had marked the history of the place before ; 
therefore, the community was all the more sensible of the 
shock produced when the fact of a dark crime was made 
known for the first time in its experience. 

But to be brief here, where the only design in the re- 
cital of the incidents of these first pages is to make sen- 
sible the sequel of a strange narrative growing out of this, 
in our day, commonplace beginning, it will be unneces- 
sary to follow up the circumstances immediately attend- 
ing the announcement of Bailey Mullins’ death, so far as 
the public was affected thereby, more than to say that the 
verdict of the coroner’s jury was: “The deceased came 
to his death by a blow inflicted on the right temple.” 

Notwithstanding the ambiguity of this conclusion of 
twelve selected citizens, it added force to the almost 
universal belief that murder had been committed. 

Who did the deed ? This was a problem that it might 


SHADOWS AND SUSPICIONS. 


81 


be said, with little of tbe figurative element of expression 
about it, everyone began to wrestle with. But right at 
this point a new feature was presented, complicating and 
distracting public affairs in that community ; and it is not 

far from the truth to say that if society in R was 

shocked at the singular death of one of its citizens, it was 
no less surprised at the news of the financial downfall of 
another, who stood in the first rank of the enterprise and 
business of the town. The news of Mr. Straight’s failure 
fell like a pall upon the activities and industries of the 
place, and for awhile they staggered under the effect pro- 
duced by the suddenness of the blow. Several firms 
showed signs of suspension, but gradually recovered as the 
excitement ceased. Perhaps an unseen hand aided in this 
result, though it is well known that the operations of 
trade cannot so easily be disrupted in small centres as in 
the larger marts of traffic. 

Whatever the causes at work for the restoration of an 
equilibrium of the forces disturbed by the bankruptcy of 
Mr. Straight, time was required to bring about confidence 
and to calm the troubled waters ; this usually follows, after 
awhile, in the order of things, with a rising wave of 
promise and more hopeful prospects. There is a striking 
analogy between the law regulating human affairs and the 
law of nature harmonizing its processes in the scale of up- 
ward tendency. The opposers of evolution should closely 
study this analogy. Man is blind, if he cannot see that 
the law of change is the law of life — that there is a nat- 
ural tendency in all things to a higher grade of existence. 
This is the fundamental teaching of religion itself, although 
the formulated doctrine is very imperfectly constructed as 


32 


SHADOWS AND SUSPICIONS. 


yet. This seeming diversion has its point of application 
as well as of interest in what is to follow, and no apology 
is needed for the hint thrown out. 

Among the most conspicuous representatives of society 
in R was Mrs. Banks, of Vaiden Hall, a palatial struc- 

ture in that day, situated in the suburbs of the town. 
This lady had always been an aspirant for social honors, 
but one obstacle had existed to thwart her ambition in 
this respect — Mrs. Straight, with her beautiful and accom- 
plished daughters, had been in her way. 

Mrs. Straight was not endued with a passion for reign- 
ing, but wit and beauty will have their votaries, and from 
her natural endowments, with the means for position, she 
was inter pares facile regina without the seeking. In all 
her association, however, with the dlite of her circle, she 
had never made herself a conspicuous figure. She stood 
behind her daughters, as it were, and put them forward, 
with gentle reins holding them under the influence of her 
own affection. 

In the social history of this family things had changed, 
misfortunes had overtaken this household and put it out 
of existence in the atmosphere in which it had lived and 
breathed formerly. Mrs. Banks’ star was now in the as- 
cendant. Mrs. Toll was a special friend of the latter and 
a constant visitor at Yaiden Hall. The news of the 
tragedy and of Mr. Straight’s failure had hurried her out, 
and she went over to discuss the subjects with the mis- 
tress of Yaiden Hall very early on the same morning. 
Mrs. Banks had heard a great deal before Mrs. Toll called, 
but was anxious to learn mare. On this occasion, speak- 
ing of Frank Eldon’s relation to the bankruptcy of Mr. 


SHADOWS AND SUSPICIONS. 


33 


Straight, and Eldon’s sudden departure, she incidentally 
remarked : 

“ These circumstances do not look any more suspicious 
than they appear to be suggestive.” 

Probably she meant to say that, in view of all the facts, 
it would hardly be amiss to institute inquiry as to the 
whereabouts of Mr. Eldon, if for no other purpose than to 
throw additional light on an event so grave and import- 
ant to the good name of the town whose history had, 
heretofore, been unspotted by such a horror. 

Mrs. Toll understood this to be the meaning of the re- 
mark; and whether such a casual expression exercised 
any influence or not, before the day closed a combination 
of rumors or surmises was floating about, vague, at first, 
it is true, but assuming definite shape — at least, sufficiently 
definite to locate suspicions upon one person as the prob- 
able actor in the tragedy of the previous night. 

Frank Eldon’s business was complicated. Some said : 
u He is a financial wreck. He was seen at Mr. Mullins’ 
late the preceding evening, and now is gone, whether to 
escape his creditors or not no one can tell.” There were 
those, no matter how slight the fragments of evidence 
might be, who could put this and that together and arrive 
at the clearest conclusions to their own minds, on the 
gravest subjects pertaining to human weal or woe ; the 
pieces of disclosed facts were made to fit, and their exag- 
gerations supplied the edges, as if mitred for each other, 
until few only could be found ready in their charity to- 
ward one, who did not appear in his own defense, to 
oppose the declaration : “ Frank Eldon did the deed.” 
There was a degree of plausibility given to this assertion 


34 


SHADOWS AND SUSPICIONS. 


by some in the fact that Bailey Mullins was reputed rich, 
and Eldon was intimate with his affairs. 

The old gentleman had lived by himself for years, 
lately having for a companion and to do odd jobs about 
his place a boy known among the other boys as Dunny- 
Deaf, the deaf mute. This youth was the only child of a 
j5oor widow, and was too well known to be of a good 
character and harmless disposition to direct the faintest 
suspicion toward him as either actor or aider in the crime. 
He had made the horror known before daybreak, but, be- 
yond this, his pantomimic efforts were a dead letter to 
every one. 

The natures of persons, like Mrs. Banks, are more than 
apt to be perverted by their ambition. Selfishness is a 
prominent feature in all such aspirations as she indulged 
in. If such individuals are not always morally depraved 
in their schemes, they are never without a disposition to 
supplant others, and to build up self, almost akin to the 
vicious or basest element of human character. But the 
mistress of Vaiden Hall, whatever her qualities other- 
wise, was not altogether devoid of some discernment ; 
and, for this reason, if for no other, it is not unlikely if 
she had observed a circumstance which occurred on one 
of the most frequented avenues of the town that morning, 
she might have adopted other words than ' 4 suspicious ” 
and “ suggestive ” in her conversation with her friend, 
Mrs. Toll, to have conveyed her thoughts on the subject 
they discussed with so much interest to themselves. Per- 
haps Mr. Mullins would have been characterized as a 
mysterious old pauper, who tired of a miserable life had 
summarily ended it for the sake of respectability, and she 


SHADOWS AND SUSPICIONS.' 


35 


would have pooh — poohed all intimation of his having 
been murdered. However, it did seem reasonable and 
natural that the old gentleman had fallen asleep, and, los- 
ing his balance, might have tumbled from his chair, hit- 
ting his temple against the corner of the table, thus in- 
flicting the death-blow. How easy it would have been to 
have reached this conclusion, at least, in an emergency. 

Mrs. Banks 7 daughter, Dora, in company with Captain 
Jacques Burdotte, had left Vaiden Hall about the time 
Mrs. Toll called that morning for a stroll, and when they 
had come up to one of the most popular variety stores in 

R , where quite a number of persons were collected 

looking at the magnificent display in the show-windows, 
the young lady also paused a moment to gaze on and to 
admire the beautiful exhibition, while her companion 
stepped to one side near the curb to keep out of the 
throng concentrating there. Burdotte, however, immedi- 
ately became conscious of a pair of eyes intently fastened 
upon his countenance ; he quickly averted his face in an 
opposite direction, but seemed to feel that stare as if it 
were a thing of substance penetrating through him. A 
little vexed at the boy’s rudeness, for it was a lad who 
was staring at him, he suddenly turned upon him, and, 
with a dark frown, muttered, rather sotto voce : 

“ Y ou impudent urchin ! what do you mean ? Get 
away from here ! ” 

The youth stood and stared, paying not the slightest 
heed to the speaker, who, perhaps, would have remained 
quiet if he had supposed this little scene would have 
attracted notice. Miss Banks came up just in time to 
catch the last part of the exclamation. 

2 


36 


SHADOWS AND SUSPICIONS. 


“Why, Jacques,” exclaimed the young lady, “he is a 
deaf mute ! ” and, smilingly, she added : “You are trying 
to make him hear and talk ! ” 

With this remark, she held out her hand to the boy, 
who kept up his imperturbable, inquisitive stare at her 
companion without the least notice of her proffered 
friendship. Presently Dora again spoke : 

“ This is the mute who made known the death of Mr. 
Mullins this morning.” 

Captain Jacques appeared momentarily stunned by the 
announcement. Several persons were now looking on. 
Their curiosity had been aroused by the last statement 
of Miss Banks, and, for an instant, their attention had 
been diverted from the display in the bow-windows. 
Her companion recovered his equipoise in a second and, 
pressing his way through the increasing crowd, said : 

“ Come, Dora, let us hasten back. I have an engage- 
ment this morning that I had almost forgotten.” 

As the couple moved off, Dunny-Deaf stared after them, 
and, lifting his right hand, pointed toward the Captain, 
while the crowd looked wonderingly on. With a back- 
ward glance Dora Banks witnessed this scene. 

“ What does the boy mean ? ” she asked, as she looked 
up into her companion’s face. 

Burdotte’s cap was pulled forward, almost covering his 
eyes, and as he forced, as it were, his questioner quickly 
around the corner, he replied, with set teeth : 

“ A very rude, wicked lad ! It is a pity nature had not 
closed his eyes also ! ” 

Dora saw that Jacques was angry at the mute’s con- 


SHADOWS AND SUSPICIONS. 37 

duct and did not press tlie matter further, so the scene 
passed temporarily out of her mind. 

Mr. Mullins had marked an anteriox social period in 
the history of this town. The transition from what was 
to what is had not, in any degree, been illustrated in him 
or in his method of living. He had completely repre- 
sented in his person the primitive order of the society of 
R . A rigid economy, severely tested, had character- 

ized his life in all its phases. Although he was generally 
reputed well-to-do, an examination of his premises after 
death disclosed nothing inconsistent with his humble 
style of living. In his homespun, however, he had 
always occupied a position in the very best circles, not 
more because he was a relative of Mrs. Straight than 
because he personated the primeval order of the town 
and preserved, in his person as well as in his possessions, 
the negative of its growth and prosperity. He had been 
the living, moving and acting picture of its historical con- 
trast; and it had been with pride that society there 
could point to itself and then to Mr. Mullins and his 
possessions as indicative of the two eras in the history of 
the place. 

He was dead now, and with his expiring breath passed 
out the remnant of the one epoch — the contrast died 
with him — and society had no further use for old Bailey 
Mullins. His thirty acres just out of town, with the 
little dilapidated home in the suburbs, were not then con- 
sidered very valuable ; therefore, no tribute was paid to 
his memory, save that respect which was shown his 
remains by his relatives, the Straights, who had him re- 
tired out of sight the best they could. Rev. Mr. Lent 


38 


SHADOWS AND SUSPICIONS. 


contributed a brief service at bis grave ; nothing more 
was expected, as his death had disclosed the scantiness of 
his worldly goods, and his people had lost their influence 
in society. 

Gracie, Flora and their mother were the three con- 
spicuous mourners who wept over his dead form before 
the clods covered it forever. The emblem of eternity, 
wreathed from the gathered flowers as a token of their 
love and remembrance, their hands placed in the casket 
with his body. 

It is due his memory to add the fact as a counterpoise 
to his rigid economy, already stated, that as he lived an 
honest man, he died one ; and as all his acts in life were 
characterized by a spirit of charity to others, he must 
have died a Christian. His rigid economy only had a 
self- application. His bounty had frequently made others 
happy, and his contributions in aid of the gospel were 
never behind. This was one reason why Rev. Mr. Lent 
was among the first to visit the. scene of the tragedy and 
why he conducted the burial service ; he emphasized the 
virtues of the deceased over his grave. 


MR. straight’s proposition. 


39 


CHAPTER III. 

MR. straight’s proposition. 

F RANK ELDON’S sudden departure and the public 
comment upon the affair annoyed the Straights very 
much. To Grade it was a subject of serious trouble and 
anxiety. Silent grief, not manifested in outward deport- 
ment in the presence of the family, was effectively work- 
ing deep down in her bosom, slight traces of which only 
could be detected about her countenence and in her move- 
ments. 

Mr. Straight had learned that Frank had hired a horse 
at the office of the stage company, late on the night of the 
tragedy, and had gone northward. Mr. Skaggs, who 
was engaged by him as the attorney to manage his af- 
airs, was quite reticent in regard to the matter. He 
did not hesitate, however, to say that Mr. Mullins had 
been murdered and that the object of the crime was rob- 
bery. Beyond this he did not feel at liberty to speak. 
He expressed the hope that in a few days the mystery 
would be cleared up. 

One evening, shortly after the funeral of Mr. Mullins, 
Mr. Straight was with his family. His financial compli- 
cations had broken up his habits in this respect to a con- 
siderable extent, as he was compelled to spend a great deal 
of his time in the efforts to arrange and simplify his busi- 
ness in order to aid the trustee of his creditors, and the 
hour of returning to the family circle at night, frequently 


40 


MR. straight’s proposition. 


for the time being, had been later than common. Affairs 
were getting along easier now. On this occasion his mood 
was pensive. There was evidentally something on his 
mind he wished to get relieved of and was looking for an 
opportunity to do so. Presently he made some reference 
to the brief lines written by Frank on the evening he left 
R and the mystery connected with Mr. Mullins’ af- 

fairs. His wife immediately replied : 

il Uncle was very miserly and always speculating. He 
may have lost heavily of late, or his money may have 
been invested, but it seems to me as if papers would have 
been found somewhere accounting for his funds. Frank 
could tell us a great deal, if he were here, and it is singular, 
indeed, we have heard nothing from him.” 

“ Your uncle was robbed ; everybody believes it. Mr. 
Skaggs is well posted by some means thus far, and he 
says that robbery was the object of the assassin. About 
this he is positive. Perhaps it is as well as it is. Frank 
might be annoyed, if he were here, owing to the peculiar 
incidents connected with the affair.” 

Mr. Straight emphasized the word “ annoyed ” a little, 
probably unconsciously, for evidently he did not think 
his friend guilty. 

“ Annoyed ! ” exclaimed his wife, who had an undefined 
idea that the word might imply more than was intended 
by its use in this connection. “ You forget that his leav- 
ing so suddenly is all that gave rise to a suspicion against 
him. It seems to me that this is very unfortunate, for, 
innocent as he must be, his absence diverts public atten- 
tion from the guilty.” 

“ You overlook Frank’s visit so late that evening and 


MR. straight’s proposition. 


41 


the knowledge the public has of his intimacy with uncle’s 
affairs,” interrupted Flora, who appeared to drift into her 
father’s idea. She in turn was cut short in her remarks 
by her sister Gracie, who had been silently listening to 
the conversation, but now spoke in a sad tone : 

“ It is true Frank may be suspected of this great crime, 
but I cannot bear to hear it. His guilt is not a question 
with us. We know that he is innocent.” 

“Gracie,” quickly replied Flora, who observed that her 
sister was much affected by these comments, “ we might 
as well admit the fact that Frank could not meet you after 
the disaster befell him that was so unfortunate for us all.” 

“ 1 always thought him brave to a fault, and as noble 
as courageous.” 

This reply of Gracie was broken in upon by Mrs. 
Straight’s answer to Flora : 

“You are too personal, daughter. Frank’s pride was 
wounded, and he could not remain here idly contemplating 
a result he had not the present means to avert.” 

“ And yet he was not any too proud,” intimated Gracie, 
more sadly affected. “ I must think the inducement was 
urgent to hurry him away so, and the motive which enforces 
silence at this time must be very strong.” 

“We will hear from him shortly,” added Flora, trying 
to say something hopeful for her sister’s benefit. 

“ My Gracie is right,” said the father, patting his daugh- 
ter on the head, as in an encouraging tone he continued : 
“ I am inclined to think Skaggs is at the bottom of it all. 
He probably sent Frank off post-haste, and now has a 
reason for keeping him away and silent. But I must 
take another crumb of comfort from our already nearly 


42 


MR. straight’s proposition. 


empty platter. W e must now accept the fact that we havo 
been brought down from easy circumstances, and our pres- 
ent condition in society will become one of self-denial, re- 
quiring tact that will tax all our resources of fortitude to 
meet it.” 

The husband and father felt that this was an opportune 
occasion to refer to what he knew was sure to come and 
must be acted on sooner or later, and he took advantage 
of it in his last remark. Flora understood his meaning, 
and in plain language gave her interpretation. 

“ All we possess,” she said, “ I suppose must be sold, 
and we — well, we will not exactly be turned out of doors 
— will have to be content in an humbler sphere in life.” 

This was said cheerfully, but her voice quivered into a 
soft tone of sympathy as her hand fell gently on her sis- 
ter’s arm and she looked affectionately into her face. 

The change that must come was freely discussed, but 
there was one phase of it not alluded to until a day or 
two afterwards. Although it may be in the nature of 
anticipating facts, it will not injure the thread to bring in 
the link here. Mr. Straight was a man of business, not- 
withstanding ill-luck had attended him, and always was 
quick to arrive at a conclusion in any matter requiring 
attention. A necessity had now been precipitated in the 
complications of his affairs calling for immediate decision 
and action. He had been rapidly turning things over in 
his mind and a determination had been reached. Address- 
ing his wife in regard to this point, he said : 

“ Ellen, the property left by your uncle is yours by 
law, and it will be as well for us to occupy it temporarily, 
or until we can do better.” 


MR. straight’s proposition. 


43 


“So soon ! ” replied Mrs. Straight, who was not prepared 
for such a change as this, brought about so suddenly. 

“ Yes ; I have thought it all over. The front of the 
house I will tear away and rebuild, and the lot and fenc- 
ing I will have repaired. It will not take a very long 
time to complete the work necessary to be done. We 
can occupy the back while the front is being finished. 
We will, perhaps, have to take a step of some kind and I 
would rather act voluntarily in the matter. My creditors 
will have to be put on the most favorable footing ; it is 
right that I should do all I can. This property will 
bring a ready rent, making less to pay in the winding up, 
and it may have to be sold. It will go easier, if we are 
out of it than if it should be disposed of over our heads.” 

“ But the girls ! The change will be so sudden, and 
the contrast so wide !” 

What a world of suggestion there was in this thought 
to Mrs. Straight’s mind. Her affections were centred in 
these two daughters, whose characters had been rounded 
off by her. What patience, labor, anxiety and care had 
been bestowed here, and for what? Her imagination 
called up the expense which had been incurred in their 
education neither grudgingly nor selfishly, but it was hard 
to realize any advantage to them from this in the circum- 
stances indicated by this change. It was an uninviting 
ordeal presented — ruthlessly forced, as it were, upon her — 
in this transition from a palace to a hovel almost — from 
the refinements of her social position to the drudgery of 
domestic toil. It was what this meant, as practically ap- 
plied to the welfare and station of her children, that so 
sorely distressed her. 


44 


MR. straight’s proposition. 


Mrs. Straight was to be excused for these half-consid- 
ered suggestions of a mind unused to even the mildest 
forms of adversity. There was enough, however, to 
make her anxious, and to afflict her feelings, without 
the contrast of the relative social position of either her- 
self or her daughters. She never, perhaps, fancied for a 
moment that, if by adversity she was forced down in the 
social scale, she might and could rise higher on the moral 
and mental grade of life. Greatness usually grows out of 
all experiences — at first adversity most generally wins the 
plume that gives a finish and character to better fortune. 
The children of fortune are seldom the heirs of fame, but 
the latter not unfrequently makes them its votaries. 

Mr. Straight probably knew what would pass through 
his wife’s mind. 

“ I can sympathize with you, Ellen, ” he said, “ but the 
course I suggest is inevitable, and I can only trust that 
you have sufficient nerve to sustain you in this trial, for 
trial it will be.” 

“ James, ” replied his wife, feelingly and tenderly, “ you 
do not comprehend me, if you think that the reverse in 
our fortune sorely afflicts me more for myself than for 
you and the girls. In my anxiety for the rest, I cannot 
think of self. ” 

“ I had no such idea as selfishness in your nature, Ellen ; 
but I must believe that the strange contrast in our situa- 
tion will be wounding to you ; yet my confidence in your 
firmness and willingness to bear your burden heroically 
is unbounded. I do not think we need alarm ourselves 
about the children. They now have an opportunity to 
practically illustrate what they have been taught — to 


MR. straight’s proposition. 


45 


face boldly any condition of life not dishonorable, or, 
ratlier, I should say, to accept any relation that honor re- 
quires. I somehow imagine that if it were not for the rest 
of us, Flora would rejoice at a reverse that would require a 
sacrifice at her hands to test her utter disregard of the 
tinseled counterfeit of the social clique here ; and now that 
she is forced into this position, I believe that she will 
treat with composed indifference the false philosophy of 
the set, and sustained by the force of new conditions and 
relations will hold at defiance its distinctions. ” 

“ But Gracie — our Gracie — in the pastimes of her circle 
she would find some relief, perhaps — ” 

“ Ellen,” interrupted her husband, in his quiet but im- 
pressive way, “ you are mistaken in the necessity of her 
case. The change is opportune in this respect, as she is 
now excused from a circle that voluntarily she would 
have foresaken in the absence of Frank under the peculiar 
circumstances that have been developed. I think I know 
my children. Let us show no misgivings in the confi- 
dence they have won from us ; and in their presence we 
must not falter in our steps of honor and duty by attempting 
to cover our true condition by false appearances — and the 
lesson will not be lost on them.” 

Mrs. Straight now illustrated her dependence upon the 
courage and will of her husband by remarking : 

“ I see that you are right, James ; but I greatly fear if 
the direction of affairs were left to my choice alone I 
would not force the situation.” 

“ True, perhaps ; yet you would accept it.” 

There was a grateful sympathy in his tone, as Mr. 
Straight felt that relief which came in his wife’s 


46 


MR. straight’s proposition. 


words indicative of a gentle and tender acquiescence in 
his plan. 

“ Alone I could hardly have the courage,” she said, “ to 
bear up under the burden implied in such a necessity as 
this.” 

“ But your help in this hour of misfortune is my strong 
support, and the light of your presence beneath the dark 
folds of the storm over us is a beacon of hope. If victory 
comes in the end, herein is the virtue of my fortitude.” 

These words were as gold — they were even more preci- 
ous — like diamonds set in the bosom of a faithful, tried 
and true wife. They were her just reward, and came to 
her as a treasure to solace her at a time of the greatest 
distress. 

The hands of the clock on the mantlepiece still stood 
at 12, and still it was midnight in the affairs of this 
family ; but the sky was not starless, for the rays of truth 
and honor shone out of the darkness, lighting the hearth- 
stone. 

The home once occupied by the late Mr. Mullins was 
an odd place for the Straights to move into, but they were 
ready, if need be, to proclaim it better than no home. 
Some people thought it rather singular that the family 
were in such a hurry to dispossess themselves of the man- 
sion. It is true there were no homestead laws then to 
protect idleness and dishonesty under the plea of charity 
to the wife and children, but that weakness in human na- 
ture which actuates most of mankind to hold on to what 
justly belongs to others, under righteous and fair dealing 
between men, to the last moment, existed then as now. 

The Bailey Mullins place had been repaired somewhat, 


MR. straight’s proposition. 47 

as a preparation for its new occupants, and was still being 
improved. 

The furniture owned by the family had been let with 
the mansion to a Mrs. Sealey, a lady who had quite re- 
cently come to R . On the day the Straights moved 

this lady called at the mansion and made their acquaint- 
ance; the property had been rented for her by Mr. 
Skaggs. She appeared to be of splendid address, and it 
was surprising with what adroitness she won her way into 
the confidence of this family, now rather reserved under 
the peculiar conditions which environed and fettered its 
members. At parting Mrs. Sealey took the young ladies 
by the hands and requested the pleasure of visiting them 
at their new home. Flora answered : 

“ Yes, indeed, it will be delightful to have you come, 
but we cannot make you feel as pleasantly as we could 
have done here.” 

“ How do you know that ? I might be determined to 
feel quite pleasantly any way.” 

Mrs. Sealey smiled, and the sisters bade her good-bye. 
The last words they heard, as they departed, were : “ Re- 
member ! you are to come back here again.” 

The significance of this remark was not comprehended 
at that time, but the sequel will reveal it. 

It was a strange circumstance that after the clock ran 
down at the hour of 12 on that night — the first night of 
trouble — none of the family had wound it up. Mrs. Sea- 
ley’s attention was attracted to the timepiece, now silent, 
and she wondered why it had been left thus. It was one 
of those usual oversights of trouble, perhaps ; but she left 
it undisturbed as she had found it. 


48 


THE PARTING. 


CHAPTER IY. 

THE PARTING. 

“And there you told me I must go! 

We parted, and you went .” — Temple Bar. 

Y AIDEN HALL was the most conspicuous edifice oc- 
cupied as a private residence in the town. It form- 
erly had belonged to a gentleman named Burdotte, who had 
moved away many years before the incidents now related, 
occurred, and was soon afterwards occupied by its present 
mistress, Mrs. Banks, who came from abroad, bringing 
her daughter then quite young, an only child, with her. 

The building commanded a fine view, and was impo- 
sing from its style of architecture and surroundings. Its 
grand front, spacious hall, stairways and passages sug- 
gested mediaeval customs of social life rather than the 
more recent idea of home comfort and convenience. Not- 
withstanding the improved condition of the building and 
the surroundings, they had the appearance of antedating 
the history of the town. Indeed, the oldest citizens could 
give but very little information about the original owners 
of Vaiden Hall. 

Mrs. Banks had always been very reticent in regard to 
her ancestral record. Allusions to her forefathers might 
have revived in the minds of some grave traditions un- 
pleasant to her ; these had nearly faded from memory. 
V ain, selfish and shrewd, it was not unlikely, if not igno- 
rant herself of the methods of her ancestors, that she 


THE PARTING. 


49 


desired the past to remain covered by that oblivion time 
had thrown over it. Having by her insinuating manners 
and grand style poised herself very successfully in the lirst 
circle of society in R , she had held a conspicuous po- 

sition among her set until the financial collapse of the 
Straights created a vacancy, as it were, at the head of the 
social scale into which she naturally slid without great 
effort. 

To show the animus of this woman’s mind, it will be in 
place to give another evidence of the evil propensity that 
influenced her toward a fallen rival, as it arose from a 
conversation between her and Mrs. Toll in regard to the 
Bailey Mullins tragedy, when Mrs. Banks took occasion 
again to refer to Frank Eldon’s connection with it. 

“ He lacks,” she said, u the positiveness of true honor, 
or is too timid to force an investigation.” 

If vain and recklessly selfish, Mrs. Banks would have 
been two shrewd to have revived this subject, if the little 
scene in front of the variety store, several days before, 
had been presented to her reflections. But she was in 
blissful ignorance of that event. Mrs. Toll replied to her 
remark : 

“ His character is seriously affected by the affair.” She 
apologetically added, however ; “ He, perhaps, is not yet 
informed of the reports of his suspected connection with 
the crime.” 

“ He would not have been apt to burn the bridges be- 
hind him in one event.” This sally of wit created some 
mirth between the two, but Mrs. Banks continued her re- 
marks : “ His course is very enigmatical on account of his 


50 


THE PARTING. 


association with the Straights. I have wondered how 
Gracie must feel.” 

It was a mere expression of wonder, not of sympathy. 
There was very little if any of that element in her nature. 

“ It must be shocking, indeed, to her sensibilities,” vol- 
unteered Mrs. Toll. 

“ Mr. Eldon’s failure and the consequent disaster to the 
business of Mr. Straight surely were enough without this 
last, which is too terrible.” 

Mrs. Toll coincided and repeated the last words like an 
echo : 

“ Too terrible ! ” 

These ladies were fair representatives of a set or class 

in the dlite circle of R . That intimacy which had 

always existed between them recently seemed to be in- 
creasing, and they began to communicate their opinions 
without reserve to each other. While Mrs. Toll attri- 
buted the greatest force of character to the mistress of 
Vaiden Hall, and regarded her as the very incarnation of 
wit and all that was essential to distinguish her as a true 
model of social acquirement, Mrs. Banks found Mrs. Toll 
more than ever necessary to her aspirations; and thus 
the bond of friendship between them was constantly 
strengthening. 

The very day the Straights moved into their humble 
abode a grand party was announced to come off in about 
a week at Yaiden Hall. This was one of those strokes of 
policy in which Mrs. Banks excelled. She, undoubtedly, 
would make it a coronation occasion, and thenceforth her 
right to reign as queen of the social court of her set in 
R — would be acknowledged. 


THE PARTING. 


51 


A beautiful evening it was when Edmon Auley stopped 
at the door of the humble home of the Straights. The 
moon shone full out of the east and the stars paled at its 
rising. He sat there near the doorway, and for an hour 
chatted as familiarly as if the distinction between this 
more lowly abode and the stately mansion, where he was 
wont formerly to visit this family, did not once enter his 
mind. As the moon was now higher and the stars had 
grown paler, Edmon rose to take h's leave. Flora con- 
tinued seated. The young man stepped out of the door 
on the ground, and, after lingering awhile longer, again 
spoke of going. There was a brief pause. Flora still re- 
mained motionless ; but the suspense was broken at last 
by the question which Edmon had come to ask. 

“ No ! no ! Mr. Auley,” Flora exclaimed, “ it will not 
do to insult good society in that way ! ” 

There was a touch of sarcasm in this speech. It had 
always been “ Edmon” before. The two had been ac- 
quainted almost from childhood, and their children’s 
ways when together had, somehow, not until now en- 
tirely ceased ; at least, cordiality and frankness had ever 
characterized their demeanor toward each other. 

“ As you please,” replied Edmon ; u I, of course, don’t 
insist, but I trust you don’t mean to accuse me of ask- 
ing your company on the occasion to insult the conven- 
tionalities of society ” 

The young man spoke as if his feelings had been 
slightly wounded, and there was some surprise manifested 
in his tone. 

“ It is no more for my own sake than for yours that I 
cannot go there,” said Flora, her voice softening, for she 
3 


52 


THE PARTING. 


began to realize the meaning lier former remark con- 
veyed. She did not intend to wound Edmon. 

“ Then I must go to Mrs. Banks’ party alone ?” 

“ That does not follow ; others would be proud to have 
it remarked that they were honored by your solicitation 
for the occasion.” 

“ Flora ! ” 

A brief pause ensued, and then Edmon Auley came 
directly to the thought uppermost in his mind. 

“ Tell me now whether it will be as in the past between 
us? ” 

As Flora made no reply, but appeared bewildered by 
the suddenness of the question, he resumed : 

“ I trust that your reserve to-night does not indicate 
that our past association must be regarded as a dream, a 
fine-spun web of fancy only, broken by the first shock, 
slight as it is — a mere fragment of life’s fortunes ! How 
am I to interpret your action now ? I cannot believe that 
you mean to dash my happiness rudely to the ground ! ” 

Flora Straight’s tenderest heart-chords were touched by 
these words, but what could she say ? She could only 
venture to smooth down the asperities of the moment by 
remarking : 

u I love to think of the past, and to regard it as it 
truly was, a pleasant reality not so easily effaced as a 
transient fancy of one’s sleep ; but, Edmon, circumstances 
have now changed, and with them our anticipations, per- 
haps, must change also. It will not do for us to linger on 
the margin of the pleasant scenes of our former lives, 
trusting for a renewal that may never be.” 

“ Flora, my feelings toward you have not changed ; 


THE PAKTING. 53 

have the circumstances of which you speak changed 
yours for me ? ” 

“ Do not press for an answer, Edmon, at this time ! ” 

“ Then I can come to see you as usual, and those 
circumstances will not be allowed to separate us en- 
tirely ? ” 

Edmon Auley looked up pleasantly as he felt his con- 
fidence restored by her last remark. He could not be- 
lieve that she intended to do violence to an unwavering 
hope kindled in his bosom for her. 

“ For the present, Edmon, it is best that the past be 
obliterated except from memory, and that an association 
once existing cease. It is best thus ; perhaps upon re- 
flection you will see it in that light.” 

The deed was done, and how fearful the end might be ! 
Flora had arisen from her seat and stood in the full 
moonlight. Her words had come from a heart full of 
emotion. She had spoken at random, and hardly knew 
what she had said as she gazed after the vanishing form 
of her suitor, his “ good-night ” lingering in her ear. 

Edmon Auley was not of age, or his fate might have 
been different. This, undoubtedly, was the reason for 
Flora’s course. She might have desired to test the con- 
stancy of her lover after the change had taken place in 
her relation to society, but would hardly have carried her 
experiment so far. He was a youth in every way prepos- 
sessing and acceptable. His traits of character and quali- 
ties of heart and head were much above those of average 
young men of his day. His visit to Flora at this time 
showed how earnest were his feelings toward her, and also 
how lightly he regarded the rigid formalities of etiquette 


54 


THE PARTING. 


in its nice distinctions as maintained in the Banks and 
Toll set. In that circle such notions as he proclaimed were 
regarded as peculiar ; but that class even at times indulged 
a youthful eccentricity it was powerless to control in every 
instance. 

The reader must not be severe in a judgment of Edmon’ s 
action, either in his proposal to take Flora as his compan- 
ion to the grand party, or in his abrupt withdrawal from 
her presence without enforcing his suit further. His im- 
maturity of years, with the natural impulsive disposition 
of ardent youth on his side, might be some apology, if no 
better defense could be offered. 

It was some moments after Edmon Auley’s departure 
before Flora could coolly calculate the result of her course. 
What had she done ? was the first question that suggested 
itself. W as she right in thus doing ? It was true that 
Edmon had been of late a constant visitor at the mansion, 
that his attentions had always been given to her — in fact, 
exclusively so — and if his actions had been significant of 
his purpose, his utterances had been more so. In other 
words, their association had been that of lovers ; they 
understood it so and their friends regarded it in the same 
light. 

Edmon had come to her on this occasion, full of confi- 
dence and hope, to renew his attachment, to give it em- 
phasis when its sincerity and strength might be tested in a 
manner to prove the depth and genuineness of his affection. 
Flow nobly and manfully had he acted ! Instead of ex- 
tending her hand as of old to encourage the honest impulses 
of his pure offering of endearment, coldly had she received 
him and repulsed his proffered advances. Had she done 


THE PARTING. 


55 


justly by him ? Her mind said yes ! Her circumstances 
had changed, and it was his right to be placed in a situa- 
tion different from that which had existed between them, 
and to have time given him to reflect. He should be per- 
mitted to occupy an unfettered standpoint that he might 
be entirely untrammelled by the circumstances of other 
conditions. She alone could give him this freedom hon- 
orably. He might be still deceived by the influences of 
the past association, and feel bound to her by former pro- 
testations. It was a duty she owed to his friends, as well 
as to him and herself, to unfetter him, unload him of every 
condition likely to influence his attachment for her, so far 
as she had the power to do so, that he might be free to 
consider the situation in its true light with her reversed 
fortune before his mind, and his own relation as affected 
thereby. 

Like an austere judge reason had ascended the seat of 
judgment, and, according to the rigid technicalities of a 
law invoked from a mercenary code of social life, it be- 
nignly supported her conscience against every imploring 
appeal of the heart’s warmest yearnings. But did the 
decision make her happy ? Did it give peace to another 
whose happiness it equally involved ? If it only secured 
for the parties affected by the issue a sad disappointment, 
a result of unhappy misgivings and doubts, dangerous in 
their tendencies, threatening and jeopardizing to the pros- 
pects held out of a lifetime of peace and joy, was it right- 
eous ? The difficulty here, as in many instances of the 
kind occuring, was that tyranny of the mind which 
overawes and suppresses the still small voice of the heart. 

Whatever may be said of the course pursued by Flora, 


56 


THE PARTING. 


in extenuation of it let it be remembered that if Edmon’s 
suit had been more fervent her judgment might have been 
less severe. When the mind and heart are in accord with 
a lover’s wooings, the light may be deadened; but 
when they are at issue, the brighter the fire glows the 
more hopeful are the prospects of the success of the wooing. 
For the lack of ardor we often lose the opportunity of 
reasoning one to favorable terms. 

In Edmon’s presence Flora’s mind had bravely waved 
its conquering sceptre over her own faint heart ; but when 
he was gone, the sceptre laid aside and her duty done, 
the throbbing heart told the story of its wrongs, complain- 
ingly murmuring forth its woes. 


THE REVEL AND ITS MYSTERIES. 


57 


CHAPTER V. 

THE REVEL AND ITS MYSTERIES. 

“ And all went merry as a marriage bell.” — Byron. 

P ERHAPS no gayer throng had ever collected in a pri- 
vate hall in the town of R than that which gath- 

ered at Mrs. Banks’ on the occasion of her grand party. 
The rich and proud were there, the beautiful and vain ; 
fair cheeks, more lovely under the brilliant blaze of the royal 
chandeliers, vying in its rich coloring with the varied 
hues of the sun’s rays upon the fragmentary clouds of 
the morning and the evening sky ; and there were the 
ringlets of the spring of life waving in the smiles of sum- 
mer advances, autumn's shade contrasting with the hoary 
locks of winter’s gray frosts ; all ages were represented, 
and all as merry as at an hymeneal feast. 

But there was more of interest in a few of the inci- 
dents of that night, as a part of the drama of life un- 
folding in this narrative, than in all the gay company 
beside as it added to the displays and scenes enacted in 
the spacious apartments of Vaiden Hall. 

Mrs. Banks was receiving her guests, and presented a 
fine appearance as she stood, dressed in white satin, 
heavily fringed and flounced according to the style of that 
day, while her gold-colored fan waved about gracefully 
in her hand like a sceptre of welcome to all. Her stately 
carriage produced something like a sensation among the 


58 THE REVEL AND ITS MYSTERIES. 

company. Mrs. Toll was by her side, and occasionally 
they engaged in comment, which, at last, was prolonged 
into a more connected conversation. 

“ And you say he came here alone ! ” remarked the 
mistress of Vaiden Hall, addressing her friend, as the two 
seated themselves away from the moving throng which 
now began, in couples or groups, to promenade up and 
down the hall. 

“ I assure you that he did, and I think the cause is 
revealed, ” was Mrs. Toll’s reply. 

“ You are, perhaps, too suspicious ; you do not really 
think that because he could not invite Flora Straight, 
he’d prefer to come here alone ? ” 

“ No ; I am rather of opinion that he requested the 
honor of her company and it was refused. ” 

“ Why, Mrs. Toll ! ” exclaimed Mrs. Banks, assuming 
the air of one exceedingly shocked, “ how could you talk 
so ? ” Here she playfully touched her friend with her 
fan in token of her disapprobation, 

“ I am not jesting at Mr. Auley’s expense. But here 
he comes ; he can speak for himself. If I have done him 
injustice, you can command my apology. ” 

At this moment the young gentleman referred to in 
this conversation approached, and, after the usual recog- 
nition, Mrs. Banks introduced the subject uppermost in 
her mind. 

“I am told, ” she said, “ that you have slighted my 
privilege. ” 

“ In what manner ? ” inquired Edmon Auley, with the 
most uncompromising air of indifference. 

“ By daring to come here alone. ” 


THE REVEL AND ITS MYSTERIES. 


59 


“ Is that all I have done to incur your displeasure ? ” 

“ Is that not enough ? ” 

“ It would seem that the fact should rather arouse your 
sympathy for me. ” 

“ Ah ! Then, I am not to blame you for a dereliction 
you could not help ? ” 

“ I should think that your clemency would excuse an 
offense that I cannot be held responsible for. ” 

“ Against whom, then, must the complaint be made ? ” 
“ Against another. ” 

“ I declare, Mr. Auley, you are too provoking ! How 
Can I, without knowing, hold any one responsible for what 
seems to have been your voluntary choice ? ” 

“ I do not even intimate it. I must be held accounta- 
ble, and have petitioned for your clemency upon the 
ground that another whom I could not influence is re- 
sponsible for my coming here alone. ” 

“ Did he not say my complaint must be made against 
another ? ” Mrs. Toll was thus appealed to. 

“ I admit that, if you have any complaint to make. ” 
“Well, you are excused, but still you are indebted to 
my clemency, you see. Now do me the favor to tell me 
who is responsible for thus compromising you,” 

“ Miss Flora Straight, ” replied Edmon, watching 
closely the effect of this announcement. 

“ What ! the bankrupts daughter ?” 

“ Miss Straight refused to honor this festivity with her 
presence to-night ; and it did not suit me to select an- 
other companion. ” 

Edmon Auley bit his lip slightly as he walked away 
and purposely engaged in conversation with others. 


60 


THE REVEL AND ITS MYSTERIES. 


“Well, he did not enjoy my exclamation,” said Mrs. 
Banks ; “ how exceedingly touchy he seems ! ” 

“ You slightly offended him, ” remarked Mrs. Toll ; 
“ they are engaged. ” 

“Really! I should have been conscious of that, and 
have respected his feelings. ” 

“ He indirectly implored your sympathy. ” 

“ How stupid in me not to comprehend ! ” 

“ He appeared to presume upon your clemency in his 
case. ” 

“ Dora must make the amende. But I presume the 
engagement between them is now ended. ” 

“ He might only have sought an opportunity to permit 
her to break it and release him ; that will reveal itself, 
however, in time. It is hard to estimate the extent of 
youthful infatuation. He may take advantage of the 
chance this misfortune to the family offers to prove his 
devotion. Youth is sometimes heroically self-sacrificing 
in such affairs. An ardent nature like his may push mat- 
ters to any extreme ; it cannot always be safely trusted to 
its own direction. ” 

“ That lady is Mrs. Sealey, ” said Mrs. Banks, after 
Edmon withdrew. “ I suppose you have met her since 
she occupied the mansion lately vacated by Mr. Straight. ” 
“ Ho ; I have been anxious to learn who she is and 
where she came from. Do you know anything about her ?” 
“ Nothing whatever. ” 

The conversation was here interrupted by Mr. Skaggs, 
who approached with the lady spoken of and introduced 
her to the pair. 

“ I must congratulate you, ” said Mrs. Sealey, address- 


THE REVEL AND ITS MYSTERIES. 61 

ing Mrs. Banks ; “ success was never more complete. 
These happy faces, however, are your best compliment. ” 

“ Thank you, ” replied the mistress of Vaiden Hall; 
“ your assurances are pleasant at a critical moment. I 
trust your judgment is not exceptional, it is so agreeable 
to feel that, in the effort to please, one has not made a 
failure. ” 

At this instant Miss Dora Banks, her cheeks all aglow 
with pleasure, advanced with Captain Burdotte and joined 
the group. Mrs. Sealey closely observed the couple, and 
at once marked the strong contrast between the dark 
facial expression of the Captain and the apparently timid, 
half-shy features of Miss Dora. 

Whatever might have been her first impression of the 
slight, delicately-wrought girl before her, it suddenly van- 
ished. It must have come and gone like a flash, for the 
young lady’s conversation and movements indicated a 
nature bold and aggressive, if need be, disguised by an 
artificial polish of manners and recherche diction. Per- 
haps she was wholly unconscious of the subtleness of her 
nature — dangerous gift — the more so as it was interwoven 
with almost irresistible charms. To a mind of speculative 
character like Mrs. Sealey ’s there was something speak- 
ing out from this beautiful girls eyes unmeant for woman, 
unlike the rays enkindled in a woman’s soul. Even her 
smile possessed an originality widely different from the 
display of sportive exuberance, from the touches upon the 
finer chords of pleasure. Her musical voice and her ex- 
quisite and bewitching manner were not masculine, yet 
they were unlike those of her sex. There was an inspi- 


62 


THE BEVEL AND ITS MYSTEBIES. 


ration from within not akin to that refinement character- 
istic of a pure and lovely feminine aspiration ; a charm 
there was about her, fascinating and exhilarating, indeed, 
but not that of artless, unsuspecting confidence. Strange, 
bewitching power to be embodied in so frail a form ! 

But her companion — what of him ? Mrs. Banks ex- 
plained that two branches sprang from the original Bur- 
dotte trunk. She belonged to one, and Jacques was 
descended from the other. Their kinship was, however, 
remotely divided by minor branches through four gen- 
erations, Her maiden name was Burdotte. Jacques was 
an infant when his mother died, had left his father s roof 
quite young, and had not been heard from until he re- 
turned a few months since to find his father dead. In 
the line of descent from his branch of the parent house 
he was the last representative. On his return, he had beer 
induced very recently to visit Vaiden Hall, where he had 
given a good account of himself and was received with 
open arms. Mrs. Sealey listened to this brief statement 
with a great deal of interest. She had already summed 
up the Captain in her mind. Tall, well-formed, wiry in 
carriage and about twenty-eight years of age ; complexion 
rather sallow, eyes dark with retreating expression, in- 
different or bad facial outcome, without the slightest trace 
of the nobler traits of the human mind, but with rather 
strong indications of the coarser elements of a nature 
inclined to over-indulgence in passion and the vices of 
mankind; jealousy, selfishness, cunning and intrigue were 
prominently outlined. Such was Jacques Burdotte, the 
prospective husband of Dora Banks — at least, so it was 
understood in society. 


THE REVEL AND ITS MYSTERIES. 63 

Mrs. Sealey made a note in her mind of the Captain’s 
appearance, and she had a reason for doing so. 

In the midst of joy, where happiest smiles wreathed 
the brows of fairest daughters at the wit and soft words of 
gay and merry friends, or young manhood, where the 
sweetest and rarest gems of the floral kingdom sent forth 
their perfume as from a paradise whose every nook and 
corner invited inspection for its array of loveliness, where 
all hearts were light and ardent smiles bewitched the 
passing hours, there was one who had failed to catch 
thus far the inspiration of his surroundings. 

Edmon Auley chided his indiscretion in the open at- 
tempt he had made to rebuke the inquisitive folly of the 
mistress of this entertainment, for he had so regarded it 
at the time, but now upon reflection he felt no little 
abashed at his presumption. Had his mind not already 
been chafed when Mrs. Banks had introduced the subject, 
or had she not pressed the matter, as he thought, 
beyond reasonable bounds, he might not so hastily have 
concluded that her object was only to gratify an idle and 
unwomanly curiosity. He was vexed also at the thought 
of his having violated the proprieties in indulging an in- 
clination to resent inquisitiveness by calling to his aid the 
name of another, when it should have been withheld 
sacredly in silence. 

While in this frame of mind and waiting impatiently 
for the relief that would come, in a modified measure, 
when he withdrew from a scene which had no charms for 
him, he was pleasantly accosted and aroused to a sense 
of the vacant and stupid part he was enacting by Miss 
Dora Banks. 


64 THE REVEL AND ITS MYSTERIES. 

“ I declare, Mr. Auley, ” she exclaimed, “ one would 
think you had missed your best friend here, so demure 
and unimpressive have you been this evening. ” 

Edmon was forcibly struck by the bluntness of this 
speech and felt strangely intrusted by the frankness of the 
fascinating speaker. Although the two had been acquaint- 
ances for a long time, nothing more than that courtesy 
and social bearing natural among the young people of the 
same community had ever existed between them. Often, 
perhaps, had Edmon admired Doras exquisite beauty, 
and it is likely when thrown in her company, as had fre- 
quently been the case, he had paid her the usual compli- 
ments of youth ; but never before had he observed her 
appearing to such advantage, or felt the magnetism of 
those searching eyes. He began to submit at once to an 
attraction the mystery of which was inexplicable at that 
moment. Already he was one-half the conquest of her 
charms and the right to the other half he would soon be 
powerless to dispute. 

“ Why, ” he replied, “ I have only been a silent admirer 
of what I saw and heard. You will not blame me that I 
acknowledge utterance stifled by the exquisite dazzle of 
what so well pleases the mind. Others may have been 
happier than myself in the exuberance of their enjoy- 
ment, but none can outstrip me in silent admiration. ” 

“ Your words are empty nothings. The voice will speak 
from a full heart; the joyous smile is the indication of a 
mind well pleased. Your voice is not merry, and your 
smile seems lost ; there is a tomblike gloom upon your face.” 

Edmon gazed steadily for awhile at the fair girl who 
appeared to read him so easily. 


THE REVEL AND ITS MYSTERIES. 


65 


“ You doubt me then ? ” he asked. 

“ Doubt you ! Why, your own thoughts tell you that 
your voice is dallying with a deception to disguise the 
truth. Your gravelike silence hides some mystery that 
has played havoc with real pleasure to-night. I came to 
you as a friend to awake you from your unpleasant dream, 
because I felt my own pleasure partially neutralized by 
the negative part you are taking. ” With these words, 
Dora smiled and coquettishly shook out her fan. 

“ You do me great injustice, if you think I am so men- 
tally dwarfish that I do not comprehend how well you 
know how to please. ” 

“ Well, dispel all further clouds for this night, and join 
our dance with the fairest lassie here. ” 

“ Then I must choose her this instant ; shall I have the 
exquisite honor of dancing with you ? ” 

“ Not this set — the next. ” 

The dark-eyed Captain, at this moment, came up and 
led Dora away as his partner in the dance then forming. 

Edmon Auley had been aroused from his stupor, as it 
were. He gazed after the couple, as they moved off, in a 
maze of wonder and somewhat bewildered. He had been 
dazed by that fairest of creatures, just emerging from 
girlhood, blushing and blooming into the most bewitching 
and fascinating of women. 

Dora Banks and Capt. Burdotte had been together 

much since the latter’s return to R , and surely on 

this occasion they had acted the role of lovers. Edmon’s 
mind was weighing these facts. He did not believe that 
Dora admired Burdotte — love him, never ! There was 
something repugnant in the very idea of such a match. 


66 


THE REVEL AND ITS MYSTERIES. 


He might be prejudiced, but surely the Captains appear- 
ance and address were not prepossessing. 

Doras words had acted like magic, an elixir of life- 
giving virtue, on him ; and like all ardent youths of his 
inexperience he felt flattered by the interest she had man- 
ifested in his enjoyment. He was anxious to reciprocate 
her attentions at the first opportunity. He dwelt upon 
the suggestion of her coming to him at such a moment, 
when he had only desired to be relieved from these sur- 
roundings, to “ awake” him, as she had expressed it, from 
his “unpleasant” dream. Her sympathy and friendship 
had moved him. Why should his gloomy silence have 
neutralized her joy in the least? These reflections re- 
newed his animation, and Edmon Auley was a ready 
participant in the enjoyments for the remainder of that 
evening. 

The next dance arrived and Dora was his partner. 
Was he self-deceived, as they moved together in the 
dreamy, graceful waltz, by the mere imagination of a 
warmth of touch and a glow of exhilaration in those 
beaming, searching eyes that revealed a deeper senti- 
ment than a mere friendly triumph ? 

After the dance was over, Miss Banks led the way, 
and they, walking to a window, where the young lady 
pushed aside the trimmed lace and ornamental hangings, 
stepped out upon a balcony among the creeping and run- 
ning vines and flowers. 

Edmon Auley could not resist the charm that appeared 
to have seized him — fairly enchanted by the spell that 
bound and led him captive at the will of his fair con- 
queror. Dora spoke fluently now, as she toyed with the 


THE REVEL AND ITS MYSTERIES. 


67 


leaves and tendrils which hung pendant about them, and 
among which the stars beamed with a waving, flickering 
and golden light. Her tones were low and subdued, as if 
she dreaded detection from within. Presently she plucked 
a few of the tendrils and tiniest flowers, wreathing them 
together. 

“ Here,” she said, “ is a token of my friendship and 
sympathy. I have discovered your secret ; but I did not 
wish to tell you so, however, and hope you will not con- 
sider me officious in thus dragging you away from those 
meditations which hung like a shroud over your thoughts 
to-night.” 

“No, Miss Dora; you have driven off the ghosts this 
time — but what did you wish to tell me when you brought 
me to this fairy nook ? ” 

“ That all is not love which seems so. There is a love 
that only ends with death, and this is said because none 
can peer into the deep, unknown, mysterious future to learn 
whether such love is eternal. Human nature must be 
content with a love limited to this life ; and, poetically 
speaking, he feigns the greatest happiness who believes 
himself the object of such a passion — so deep and strong 
that all other ties yield a ready obedience to it. No cir- 
cumstance of fortune — even poverty, I may say — can 
sever the link welded by this attachment. Do you believe 
in a passion like this ? ” 

Edmon was startled by the question. He ventured, yet 
hesitatingly, to ask : 

“ Why should I not believe in an affection such as you 
describe, further strengthened by the hope that it may be 
eternal also?” 

4 


68 


THE REVEL AND ITS MYSTERIES. 


“You do believe in it; all men believe in it; but 
woman alone proves its existence. No maiden, with this 
deep, undying feeling in her heart, could so subdue it as 
to drive her suitor, protesting at her feet, away into the 
night of doubt and uncertainty ! ” 

Edmon Auley felt the application of this speeeh. Why 
had he been so blind? Here was a ministering spirit, 
who had discovered him sore and wounded. Her sym- 
pathy had brought him back to self-consciousness, and 
her friendly hand would heal the wounds made by another 
and restore him to life’s enjoyment. He would have 
bowed down there and kissed the beautiful hand extended 
to him, if he had dared to make Dora understand so 
suddenly a sentiment already awakened in his heart for her. 

The banquet was spread and the guests were gathering 
there. Mrs. Banks and Mrs. Sealey met the couple as 
they came out of their hiding-place into the ball once more. 

“I declare,” said the mother, addressing her daughter, 
“we have been looking for you everywhere.” 

“Everywhere but in the right place,” said Dora, 
smiling. 

“The mystery is solved,” remarked Mrs. Sealey, 
observing the pair attentively. “Mr. Auley would cheat 
the moments as they fly ! ” 

“ Yes, Dora, you must beware of him ! ” added Mrs. 
Toll, who came up at this juncture. 

“ Is that wreath in Mr. Auley’s possession his or yours, 
Miss Banks ? ” inquired Mrs. Sealey, pleasantly. 

“ It is his now.” 

“ Was it booty captured in your flight, or did you 
merely leave it to be taken care of until you called for it!” 


THE REVEL AND ITS MYSTERIES. 


69 


asked Mrs. Toll, keeping up the banter at the expense of 
the detected pair. 

Dora, however, playfully parried every effort of the 
party to tease them, and, at last, felt triumphant as Edmon 
led her to the festal board. This was what she coveted 
more than any other of that night's pleasures. 

The remainder of that evening, and until midnight, 
Edmon Auley was swept on with the tide. Enraptured 
and fascinated, he could not, or would not, do otherwise 
than yield as the veriest of slaves to womans arts. He 
half assented to those glances entreat ingly lifted to his 
eyes, and that night tenderly, pressed the small white 
hand held out to him on the threshold as he departed. 
It was sufficient ; the victory was won. 

Edmon Auley was a prize worth winning, but pursuit 
of him had been a fruitless effort while Flora Straight 
held the key to his heart. A change had taken place. 
Dora Banks saw the opportunity for another effort, and 
had resolved to bring him a captive to her feet. 

Our brightest hopes are oftentimes dispelled by the 
slightest cause adverse to their realization. Mrs. Banks 
had whispered to her daughter concerning the trouble 
upon Auley s mind and urged her to adopt some method 
to relieve him of his load of gloom, The mother now 
contemplated the sequel to her interposition with misgiv- 
ings that produced consternation. 


70 WHAT flora's visit to thje mansion discloses. 


CHAPTER VI. 

WHAT FLORA’S VISIT TO THE MANSION DISCLOSES. 
“Oh! Love! thou art a strange, mysterious power .” — Fanny H.Aubyn. 

M R. STRAIGHT had made every effort to render 
his new home comfortable and pleasant to his 
family. He appreciated the sudden change of situation, 
and had lost all idea of self in the feeling of sympathy 
for his wife and children. The old well-house had been 
torn down and a new one erected in its place ; the fencing 
had been repaired and the front yard was trimmed off 
nicely. These and other minor alterations, added to the 
improvement to the front of the building, gave an air of 
domestic comfort to the appearance of the place entirely 
foreign to it a few weeks before. 

Things about the premises were agreeable enough. It 
was the sharpness of the contrast in the Straights’ relation 
to society and the attendant consequences that produced 
annoyance. It was hard for them to realize their present 
condition and to fit themselves to it. Of course, they had 
felt that natural humiliation that will be experienced — 
struggle as we may against it under similar conditions — 
from such a change of fortune as had befallen them. 
Adversity always brings its humiliations. It is not for 
human nature to escape them, although the strong mind, 
by repressing the feelings they arouse, may finally rise 
above them. 


WHAT FLORA’S VISIT TO THE MANSION DISCLOSES. 71 

Mrs. Sealey kept her word and called on the Straights. 
She had come on business, this time, however, but the 
young ladies were glad to see her all the same. Her 
object was to induce Mrs. Straight to go with her to Mrs. 
Chapel’s, the home of Dunny-Deafs mother, and she suc- 
ceeded in the following way : 

“I am going,” said Mrs. Sealey, “on a mission of 
charity, and you can aid me.” 

The young ladies were anxious for their mother to go 
out, as she had kept herself pretty well confined to the 
house since they had moved. They had also taken a 
great fancy to Mrs. Sealey and were delighted that the 
latter had come with the invitation; therefore, they 
joined each other in urging their mother to accompany 
their visitor that morning in her walk to Mrs. Chapel’s. 

Mrs. Straight was a kind and benevolent lady, and if 
she had at first felt disposed to excuse herself, the object 
was sufficient to induce her to change her mind. Mrs. 
Chapel was a poor woman, and the natural infirmities of 
her boy only tended to increase the misfortune of her lot. 
If Mrs. Sealey could find use for Dunny-Deaf, as she pro- 
posed to do, it would be a great blessing to his mother. So 
Mrs. Straight got ready and went on this mission of 
mercy, as it might well be considered. 

Upon taking leave of the young ladies, Mrs. Sealey so 
earnestly insisted in their visiting her that she succeeded 
in securing Flora’s promise for that afternoon. There 
was a great temptation to Flora in this affable solicitation 
of their visitor, for her piano was at the mansion. She 
was extremely fond of music and had been deprived of her 
instrument long enough to miss it greatly. When her 


72 WHAT flora’s visit to the mansion discloses. 

mother returned from Mrs. Chapel’s she brought a renewal 
of the invitation. Mrs. Sealey, she said, would look for 
her early. 

That afternoon Flora did not start so early as she had 
intended ; it was rather late before she was ready to go. 
It was better, she decided, to make her first call too short 
than too long ; and when she did get off she extended her 
walk through the town square. This was large and 
handsomely laid out, with its oval mounds, grass plots and 
graveled walks, and ornately decorated with contributions 
from the citizens. It was enclosed with substantial pa- 
lings, and at the four corners, as well as on the sides, 
gates were erected for ingress and egress. 

The afternoon was delightful, and it seemed to Flora as 
she entered the capacious square that all R had gath- 

ered there on this occasion for some grand purpose, instead 
of the customary few hours’ exercise and pastime. She 
was a brave girl, but her heart fluttered a little as she 
passed Mrs. Toll, whose attention, at that moment had 
been diverted in an opposite direction much to Flora’s re- 
lief, and the young girl was just congratulating herself 
upon an escape from Mrs Toll’s critical observation, when 
she found herself face to face with Dora Banks. 

The two had been educated at the same seminary, and, 
of course, had been quite intimate. It would, therefore, 
have been impossible for them to have passed each other 
without some sort of recognition. Dora did not wait to 
be noticed first, but came directly to Flora with her hand 
extended, as she exclaimed : 

“ Flora, if you would not honor us the other evening, I 
hope we are still friends!” 


WHAT FLORA’S VISIT TO THE MANSION DISCLOSES. 73 

This was too kind and frank in Miss Banks. It con- 
fused and surprised Flora, who did not expect such a 
greeting. She looked up hesitatingly as she replied : 

“ Our trouble, Dora — you know that I could not attend 
the party.” 

“ Of course, we could not expect you under the circum- 
stances. Mr. Auley said he called for you. How charm- 
ing he is. W e had a pleasant time in the dance ; he was 
in such a good humor. It was really delightful. I was 
amused, too, at Edmon’s confusion when Mrs. Sealey 
detected him with the little wreath of flowers I had made, 
and which he kept, while we were hidden among the vines 
and shrubs of the bay-window. Mother chided me for my 
absence, and it created much mirth when Mrs. Sealey 
pointed to him as the culprit who had stolen the moments 
away from me. It was an exhilarating incident, which 
we afterwards enjoyed, as we refused to be teased by her 
and Mrs. Toll. 

Flora felt as if ready to sink to the ground. She could 
not and would not stand there and hear more. With a 
desperate effort to repress her feelings, she interrupted 
Dora : 

“ I am pleased, indeed, that the occasion was so agree- 
able to you and all ; but I must bid you good-day.” 

Her flight was as rapid as she dared to make it. With 
her face turned downward, she reached the gate at the 
opposite corner from the one she had entered, and placed 
her hand on the knob to lift the latch. Her fingers 
touched those of another, as the gate swung back on its 
hinges, and she hurried out on the sidewalk. Edmon 
Auley was just entering the square as Flora was making 


74 WHAT flora’s visit to the mansion discloses. 

her exit. The young girl was not brave enough to look 
up into his face as he bowed, but rushed on. Mrs. Banks, 
who was in the square, coming up to Mrs. Toll, just as 
Flora had passed, remarked : 

“ I believe that is Flora Straight.” 

“ I think it is,” said Mrs. Toll, putting her glasses to 
her eyes. 

The pair quietly watched Miss Straight until after the 
young ladies had separated and Flora had reached the gate. 

“ Well, do look !” ejaculated Mrs. Toll. “ If there isn’t 
Mr. Auley, holding the gate for her to pass out !” 

“ How odd !” exclaimed Mrs. Banks. 

Edmon Auley made his way to these ladies, who had 
retired to one of the rustic benches. As he paused awhile 
to converse, they invited him to be seated. He lingered 
there much to their entertainment until the sun began to 
throw the shadows far to the eastward, when he strolled 
off in company with Dora Banks. 

Mrs. Sealey appeared delighted that Flora had kept 
her promise, so much so that it was not long before the 
latter began to experience some relief from the effects of 
the incidents in which she had previously participated 
that afternoon ; she played and sang, while the intervals 
were filled up with conversation. There was a pleasing 
variety given to the hour. Mrs. Sealey knew how to en- 
tertain and to be entertained. Presently, without indica- 
ting any premeditation, or showing more than an ordinary 
interest in her manner, she remarked, in passing from one 
subject to another : 

“I suppose you are well acquainted with Miss Dora 
Banks” 


WHAT FLORA’S VISIT TO THE MANSION DISCLOSES. 75 

“ I knew her quite well.” 

“ Then you still know her.” 

“ Oh ! yes, but I meant there was until recently some 
social intimacy between us.” 

“ I understand. Had you any acquaintance with Cap- 
tain Burdotte ? ” 

“ I only have seen him once or twice with Dora.” 

“ I believe he is a stranger yet to some extent here ; 
but Mr. Auley — undoubtedly you know him quite well ? ” 

A crimson flush suffused Flora’s fair cheeks. The 
question seemed to be put with peculiar emphasis. Mrs. 
Sealey could not avoid observing some confusion in 
Flora’s manner, as the young girl replied : 

“ Mr. Auley at one time was quite at home at the 
mansion.” 

“ W ell, I am sure he could still feel himself welcome, if 
he would ; perhaps, though, there is not the same attraction 
here as formerly to induce his visits ! But I wished to re- 
mark that there were some things very enigmatical in the 
deportment of the three at the party the other night.” 

This intimation had a tendency to restore Flora’s equi- 
poise, which was becoming much disturbed by Mrs. Sea- 
ley’s allusions to a subject, the slightest reference to which 
affected her. A few hours before, it might have been 
otherwise. The account given by Dora Banks of certain 
incidents of the party had touched her sensibilities, and 
her feelings rebelled against any suspicion of her wounded 
nature. The cordiality of Dora’s first greeting in the 
square had been a surprise and had confused her, but 
Dora’s words had disclosed the motive of her apparent 
frankness and communicative affability. Now, however, 


76 WHAT FLOEA'S VISIT TO THE MANSION DISCLOSES. 

Mrs. Sealey’s reference to tlie three parties interested Flora, 
as the truth of Dora’s statements might be tested. The 
conversation was continued by the hostess : 

“ Captain Burdotte was exceedingly attentive to Dora. 
I thought, at times, he was more exacting than gallant in 
his rigid politeness to her. Dora’s style is singularly be- 
witching. I must confess there is a mystery in her nature 
I cannot comprehend according to the ordinary rules of 
judging human character. At the party her smiles were 
fascinating and her utterances captivating and alluring to 
Mr. Auley, leading him into the inextricable meshes of 
her charms, whether purposely or not I could not tell ; 
yet I could not think her toying, flattery, or whatever it 
may be called, was more than an assumption, or was prac- 
ticed from any other motive than a disposition to coquetry. 
Burdotte’s jealous eye followed her everywhere when she 
exchanged his attentions for those of others. I think she 
was aware of this and sought every opportunity to annoy 
him. His suit was, perhaps, too restraining. She may 
admire, or might even love him, but at such a time did 
not wish to be clogged in her freedom by exclusive atten- 
tions. Be this as it may, there was an evident difference 
in her deportment in the dance as the partner of Edmon 
Auley and as they emerged from the bay-window ; there 
was more of the semblance of true love in the latter episode 
— nothing like a flirtation in that scene. Perhaps less 
intimacy with Mr. Auley required more self-poise and a 
greater reserve on her part. But I wish to learn more 
concerning Mr. Auley. Can you not tell me something 
about him?” 

Mrs. Sealey looked inquiringly into Flora’s face. There 


WHAT FLORA’S VISIT TO THE MANSION DISCLOSES. 77 

was a deathly paleness there ; the new-fallen snow could 
not have appeared whiter. Like spear points piercing 
her heart’s core came these words, corroborating Dora’s 
statements. 

u My dear!” exclaimed Mrs. Sealey, “are you ill?” 

“ It is nothing,” replied Flora ; “ I felt it coming as I 
came along.” She uttered an unconscious truth, as with 
an effort she struggled to the window. 

N o word or hint passed Mrs. Sealey’s lips ; even her 
countenance wore an unmeaning expression, but all the 
time she knew that she had chanced upon a discovery ; 
yet this lovely girl, like a fresh flower stung by the cruel 
insect regaling in its freshness or sipping its sweetness, 
should remain unconscious that her secret had been 
probed. 

The color returned to Flora’s cheek, she soon over- 
came her feelings and regained her wonted equipoise. 
Her trouble was sacred to her, and she determined to keep 
it so ; therefore, in taking leave of Mrs. Sealey, she apolo- 
gized for her slight indisposition, and bravely ventured to 
refer to the subject, where the former had left off. 

“ Mr. Auley,” she said, “ is not yet of age, but will be, 
as I have heard, in a few months, when he will come into 
the possession of a large estate. His parents were quite 
wealthy and very aristocratic, but they are both dead. 
Edmon is an only child.” 

After Flora had gone, Mrs. Sealey could not avoid 
thinking over what had been broached by her. There 
could be no such purpose as an endeavor on the part of 
Dora Bank’s to excite by a flirtation a feeling of jealousy 
in Edmon Auley ’s breast. She might under some circum- 


78 WHAT floka’s visit to the mansion discloses. 

stances, wish to be made the sensational object of rivalry, 
but such an element of vanity seemed, in this case, to be 
absent. Dora’s supposed double-dealing with two suitors 
at the party had caused her to ask herself the question : 
“ What can it mean?” 

Perhaps the mystery was now disclosed in the fact that 
Edmon Auley had only quite recently become an object 
worth her effort to win. At one time he had been quite 
at home at the mansion. If Dora did not mean to break 
with Burdotte, she was holding him as a cover or means 
of retreat while she tested the strength of Mr. Auley’s 
attachment for Flora. 

It is remarkable how closely Mrs. Sealey traced out 
the facts in regard to Dora’s motive. However, the idea 
was not an original conception in all its parts with Miss 
Banks. Her mother’s suggestion had brought vividly 
to her mind the prospect of such a conquest in case the 
attachment she knew had existed between Edmon and 
Flora Straight had ceased, or could be broken by any 
effort under the new conditions. There was the element 
of intrigue in all further dallying with Jacques Burdotte, 
if he were to be used merely as a cover in her designs 
with Edmon Auley. 

How different was Flora Straight’s motive in striving 
to hide her secret ! Courageous girl ! She only strove to 
keep down the emotions of an aching and throbbing 
heart, pouring forth the story of its woes to others, who 
had no right to hear, as they might have no responsive 
sympathy with its murmurings. 

There is a strange perversity sometimes in a concate- 
nation of incidents, all leading to one end or conclusion, 


WHAT FLORA’S VISIT TO THE MANSION DISCLOSES. 79 

as in this instance. Flora Straight had not gone far on 
her way home before she met Edmon Auley and Dora 
Banks in their stroll from the square. They were leis- 
urely walking in the direction of VaidenHall. There 
was nothing unpleasant or triumphant in the smile of 
recognition bestowed by Miss Banks on Flora in passing. 
Why should there be ? The incident itself was triumph 
enough, especially in the light of her previous words. 
Flora was passing through the fire. Shocked by the fickle- 
ness of her lover, his instability made evident by the 
testimony of Mrs. Sealey, who had just confirmed Dora’s 
statements, the ordeal could not be perfected in its trying 
features without this ultimate exhibition, which she must 
be made to witness. 

Flora now called to mind that Edmon had declared, 
when she refused to accompany him to the grand party, 
that he would go alone. It at present appeared that he 
had made no sacrifice in so doing. How singular that 
she had been brought face to face with a train of facts 
that disclosed the real object he had before him in deter- 
mining to go to Yaiden Hall unaccompanied on that oc- 
casion ! He was not going there unaccompanied that 
afternoon ! There was, at least, this consolation in the 
ordeal through which she had been compelled to pass — 
the truth had been let into her mind. Dora’s presence in 
the park explained Edmon’s object in going there, and in 
the light of what she had heard and seen her way was 
cleared. How different it might have been had she not 
gone out that afternoon ! 

This effort to dash aside the trouble gathering over 
her was futile. The rising emotions of Flora’s bosom, 


80 WHAT flora’s visit to the mansion discloses. 

like the stormy waves of the disturbed ocean heaving 
back their white-crested foam, lifted up the language of 
first love, which broke in distressful murmuriugs in her 
agitated reflections : 

“ Oh ! Edmon, ever trusted, but how false, if you had 
spared me that last meeting, which but strengthened my 
confidence and made me hope that the time of our sepa- 
ration would be brief! I could not have believed you 
capable of such inexplicable inconstancy ! ” 

The state of Flora’s feelings can only be comprehended 
in the light of that intimacy that had existed between 
her and Edmon. Their confessions and pledges had 
created a faith in her heart that nothing but stern facts 
could shake. It must be a desperate infatuation which 
could make him forget his vows to her. It is true she 
had released him ; but never for one moment had a doubt 
of his return to her entered her mind. What had been 
required of her by the simple conditions of changed cir- 
cumstances she had done with an abiding confidence that, 
in the end, he would be all the more faithful to his 
plighted troth. Had she been deceived ? 


A TRYST AND AN UNPLEASANT REVELATION. 51 


CHAPTER VII. 

A TRYST AND AN UNPLEASANT REVELATION. 
CARRIAGE-WAY wound around the terrace of 



J Vaiden Hall through a shaded grove, and paths 
shot off from this to open spaces where the aspect was 
varied by flowers, shrubs and green arbors. In one of 
these spaces Dora Banks, throwing carelessly aside her 
walking hat, sat down upon the vine- twisted rustic chair, 
and, breathing a sigh, remarked : 

“ I feel slightly fatigued, but the exertion of the walk 
is nothing to the pleasure it brought.” 

“ Which, finished, you can afford to make light of,” 
said Edmon. 

“ I could repeat it, if I did not feel merciful to you — I 
see that you are wearied.” 

“ Hot much ; but what recompense could there be in 
the sameness of such a stroll repeated ? ” 

“ None, perhaps, to you.” 

“ But why none to me, rather than to you? ” 
u I am dull company, I doubt not.” 

“ Then, why should there be pleasure to you ? ” 

“ Must I sit here to be cross-examined like a witness in 
a court of justice, because I pant for the congenial air and 
find pleasure in a companionship of my own choosing ?” 

“ You made the proposition, and you cannot in justice 
construe my inquisitiveness into impertinence. A propo- 
sition is a thing always open to inquiry until settled ; but 


82 A TRYST AND AN UNPLEASANT REVELATION. 

your testimony under my interrogatories confesses the 
issue I sought to make, for how much more exhilarating 
the draught of air and pleasant companionship under this 
green vine where one can woo the poetry of rest, and re- 
flect in delightful ecstacy over the task just ended, as the 
shadows fall about us and the golden sun paints its crim- 
son pictures in its western glow at setting, than to repeat 
it for half the pleasure already secure ! ” 

“ There are sometimes many ways in which to look at 
an object ; so also there is often more than one way in 
which to consider a proposition. I was thinking of a 
penance to compensate the pleasure otherwise denied; 
you think of the joy a rest brings to reward a penance 
already done. Of course, I was stupid enough to dally 
with a fancy. I thought of a forfeit I could pay to the 
chance alone which gave a pleasing variety to my pas- 
time this evening. In the exuberance of my feelings I 
unwittingly intimate the penance I would undergo in 
accrediting you with the accidental boon of so much 
enjoyment; hence your inquisitorial cross-fire, as if 
there were some peculiar delight in your mind to sport 
over my tortured confessions.” 

“ If injustice to me is justice to yourself, I am willing 
thus to be martyred to beauty and sentiment ; yet, you 
will allow me to interpose the defense I offer. I admit the 
chance that brought me into your presence this afternoon, 
but I deny that it had any power to keep me there. You 
cannot be deceived by a doubt of the charm which led 
me here and makes me reluctant to depart !” 

“ I suppose it is quite pleasant, and even considered 
gallant, to flatter ; but it is sometimes cruel. I confess 


A TRYST AND AN UNPLEASANT REVELATION. 83 


my dullness, yet it would be very cruel in you to treat 
me as stupid.” 

“ Dora, there is a charm in you that makes all else ap- 
pear insipid in your presence ! Will you persist in believing 
I merely seek to indulge in unmeaning platitudes and 
stamp me as a common flatterer ? I will not leave you 
under such an impression ! ” 

“ Then I will take advantage of that discovery to keep 
you here ; I have not the courage to believe that you 
would deceive me ! ” 

“ No ! no ! I would, if I could, inspire in your mind at 
least a partial faith in my declarations of the charm I 
find in your society to bribe your lips to a betrayal of 
some assuring confession, that I might carry away the 
wrested treasure as a souvenir to encourage a hope you 
have kindled in my heart.” 

Dor&’s white hand, with its fingers clad in gold and 
sparkling with rich gems, was lifted to Edmon Auley’s 
lips. But the avowal was not made, or the seal set to it, 
for the spell of the enchanted moment was suddenly 
broken by Mrs. Banks, who appeared upon the scene, 
passing leisurely up the pathway. The trysting was not 
unobserved by her, and as Edmon Auley bowed and took 
his leave, she remarked : 

“ Dora, Jacques has just left me, and it is his wish that 
your engagement be consummated ! ” 

This was a fearful announcement, coming at this junct- 
ure to shiver the bright fancy just indulged in. Dora 
Banks could not be expected to manifest much patience at 
the information. In a tone of timid shrinking she asked : 

“ Is there no escape from his persecutions ? ” 

5 


84 A TRYST AND AN UNPLEASANT REVELATION. 


“ Persecutions ! You surprise me, daughter! Have you 
not listened to his vows of love ? ” 

“ Could I do otherwise, hemmed in by his jealous es- 
pionage, a victim to his passionate suit ? ” 

“ But, Dora, do you not love Jacques? ” 

“ No ! Once I encouraged the idea of enduring him ; 
now I despise him. Call that love, and oh ! how strong 
is my passion !” 

“ Really, child, I am startled ! Wherefore this change 
and how long since it was brought about ? ” 

“ Mother, I have only indulged in a flirtation with 
Jacques to please you. I hoped he would go off again 
among the pirates, where he might find a congenialty of 
companionship ! ” 

“ Don’t refer, my child, to the romancing of that old 
hag, Nancy. Even if the scraps she professes to retain 
in her memory were not the fancies of her insanity, Jac- 
ques would not be responsible for the reckless careers of 
his ancestry.” 

“ You would not have me give him my hand without 
my affection ? W ould he be mean enough to accept such 
a gift, if in my folly I would bestow it? ” 

“ Dora, this is girlish, purely sentimental. Marriage is 
a business of self-interest. Do you not understand 
that?” 

“ Call love a sentiment and marriage a business affair, 
if you wish. I have no taste to consider technicalities 
with the imprint of Edmon’s kiss still fresh on my hand ; 
his love leaves no room for cold logic ! ” 

“ My daughter, banish the delusion you are clasping to 
your bosom delightful though it might be, under other 


A TRYST AND AN UNPLEASANT REVELATION. 85 

circumstances, to dream over. You will never realize 
the fancy your mind dallies with ! ” 

“ Why do you seek to crush my young hopes with 
douhts ? ” 

“ Think of his first love. A few months, at most, and 
he will assuredly return to it ! ” 

“ Never ! I cannot harbor even the suspicion of such a 
thing ! ” 

The mother and daughter had reached the Hall, and 
seated themselves on the piazza in front of it. 

“ Now, Dora,” said Mrs. Banks, resuming the conver- 
sation, as she laid aside her bonnet and shawl, “ I want 
you to put all poetry from you and listen to me seriously. 
There was, perhaps, a pleasant romance in the scene I 
witnessed, in part, between you and Edmon Auley as I 
came up the path ; but if Edmon professed love for you, 
believe me it was only a momentary impulse of ardent, 
thoughtless youth which prompted his' avowal.” 

“ He made no avowal ; shadow-like you came over the 
sunshine and broke the spell.” 

u It is as it should be ; your happiness lies in another 
direction. When Edmon Auley reaches his majority, he 
will demand of Flora Straight the fulfillment of the 
agreement that has existed between them ever since they 
were old enough to understand their mutual attach- 
ment.” 

“ Mother, do you think Edmon Auley would renew 
an agreement, from which he stands released, in violation 
of his honor ? ” 

“ I mean that he does not now understand his own 
heart” 


86 A TRYST AND AN UNPLEASANT REVELATION. 

“ Pledged to me, I would not, could not doubt bis con- 
stancy. Flora has rejected bis suit under a strong test. 
I bave not, and will not.” 

“ But be bas not yet declared bimself your suitor.” 

“Not in words exactly, but ” 

“ He never will, my child ! ” 

Dora bad tbe utmost confidence in ber mother’s 
insight into human character, but, young as she was, she 
felt herself her equal in this respect ; still Mrs. Banks’ 
positive declaration caused her whole frame to quiver 
like an aspen. 

“ If your troth with Jacques is broken, Yaiden Hall 
passes out of our possession into his,” said Mrs. Banks. 

“Mother ! ” almost shrieked the daughter, as the full 
import of the revelation burst upon her. 

“ It is true,” continued Mrs. Banks. “ This property 
belonged to his father. Had Jacques never returned, it 
would have remained ours. You can see now why I 
encourage your union with its rightful owner. Do you 
think Edmon Auley will fly to you when you are turned 
out of Yaiden Hall to battle with Fate and to sink into 
insignificance in society? Will you cherish such a 
delusion further ? No, my daughter, we cannot trust to 
doubtful promises in our situation.” 

Here was a startling revelation, indeed. The result of 
breaking her troth with Jacques flashed with terrible 
vividness upon Dora’s mind ; but her soul still clung to 
the one fond hope so recently born and briefly cherished ; 
it was too hard to let it die. 

“ Do you believe that Jacques would strike such a blow, 
if I rejected him?” asked she. 


A TRYST AND AN UNPLEASANT REVELATION. 87 


“ I am certain of it !” 

“ And I must marry him to avert this threatened disas- 
ter, even though I love another ?” 

“ But think of the blow you will inflict upon him by 
violating your pledge ; think how we have encouraged 
his suit !” 

“ If I dare to make this sacrifice for Edmon, do you 
believe he would turn away from me ? How heartless it 
is to indulge in such a thought, mother !” 

“ And yet such a course is foreshadowed in his present con- 
duct. To prove that your hope is altogether delusive, you 
have only to mark in how short a time since her father’s 
failure he has turned from Flora Straight to bask in your 
smiles, in utter forgetfulness of his former vows and en- 
dearments ! Fie ! daughter ! Did not Mrs. Toll tell you, 
on the night of the party, to beware of him ? ” 

Dora arose. Her whole frame was agitated by deter- 
mined desperation as, turning toward her mother with 
wild gesticulation, she exclaimed: 

“ Prepare the altar ! I am ready for the sacrifice ! But 
let the mock offering be made without an officiating 
priest ; the form of a ceremony I accept, but no rights 
under heaven shall be granted to Jacques Burdotte as my 
husband ! I swear it ! ” 

This was a strange speech, incomprehensible to Mrs. 
Banks. However, its conditions formed a compromise too 
willingly acceded to by that cold, selfish and calculating 
woman. Like many others her confidence in the sooth- 
ing influence of time was strong. 

In his love affair with his beautiful and bewitching 
cousin, Captain Burdotte seemed to care for neither 


88 A TRYST AND AN UNPLEASANT REVELATION. 


form nor ceremony. He implicitly committed tlie whole 
matter of the wedding to the caprice of one whom he was 
willing to hnmor at any sacrifice so it secured her to him. 
It was enough that she consented to bind herself as sacredly 
as at the priestly altar. He laughed when Mrs Banks 
told him that the ceremony would be private, without an 
officiating clergyman. Religion, he said, gave no addi- 
tional sanctity to marriage. As the law prescribed pro- 
tective forms, these should be respected under its license ; 
otherwise he would be content merely with witnesses. 
Marriage was a contract of mutual consent and only needed 
attestation to make that consent positive. The law meant 
no more than this, as its license and forms were intended 
simply to preserve the evidence of the contract. He 
preferred that no preacher should join their hands and 
sermonize over them. He felt obliged to Dora for her 
good sense in accepting the substance of the law. 

That Jacques Burdotte failed to suspect a motive in this 
method of conducting the marriage ceremony determined 
on by Dora and her mother must not be inferred. He 
did suspect a motive and was willing to humor it. He 
cared nothing for the motive. Dora would be his wife. 
X>nce possessed of her, his aim would be attained. 

The private reserve of Dora Banks in regard to her 
marriage amounted to nothing in the contract. She was 
too well-informed not to be aware of the full force of her 
relation to Jacques Burdotte as her husband. It was the 
moral view of the matter which weighed on her mind. 
She already contemplated a struggle with Burdotte after 
their union. She would make him conscious of the force 
of her silent reservation in due time. 


A TRYST AND AN UNPLEASANT REVELATION. 89 

How well Mrs. Sealey had read Dora’s nature will 
shortly be seen. Circumstances were now about to be 
linked together in a chain that would test Mrs. Sealey’s 
skill in discerning the inner springs of human character. 

Dora Banks was rendered desperate by the conditions 
of her submission, and if, in her present state of mind, 
she had again met Edmon Auley, before her nuptials 
with Jacques Burdotte, in all probability she would have 
divulged the secret of Vaiden Hall’s ownership, but the 
impression made by her mother was too strong for any 
momentary impulse to induce her to seek such an inter- 
view with the result in doubt, and the opportunity was 
lost. 


90 


THE MYSTERIOUS APARTMENT. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

THE MYSTERIOUS APARTMENT. 

T HE marriage of Jacques Burdotte and Dora Banks 
created no great comment. The event had been 
expected. That it was a private affair was not regarded as 
at all singular. Mrs. Banks could be excused even by 
those who differed with her on the propriety of private 
weddings. Society had been prepared for this event, and 
it had been approved with great eclat in advance. The 
hymeneal deity had been appeased beforehand, so to 
speak, by the grand party preceding the marriage, which 
was regarded as a clever ruse. That was the way in 
which society looked at the union, and not a ripple 
stirred the surface of the social waters. Congratulations 
were received and Captain Burdotte determined on an 
immediate tour, in which resolve he was warmly seconded 
by Mrs. Banks, who thought this movement would 
cover the haste with which the wedding had occurred 
and the true motive of the privacy which had charac- 
terized it. 

Heretofore Dora had been much under the direction 
and influence of her mother ; the future promise of this 
union did not indicate fair weather ; the relations of the 
mother and daughter were placed further apart by it and 
the maternal premonition that Dora’s method meant 
something more unpleasant than Mrs. Banks could now 


THE MYSTERIOUS APARTMENT. 91 

imagine. Away from home her restraints would not be 
so irksome ; there the strange madness which appeared 
to have taken possession of her would more likely be fed 
than starved out, and might lead, ultimately, to a fatal 
rupture. It was both good policy and sound discretion to 

countenance the determination of Jacques to leave B 

for the present. Wedding tours were not the custom in 
isolated districts at that day. This feature would give 
an after brilliancy to the marriage that would make up 
for its other deficiencies. 

An incident occurred on the evening of the wedding 
that must not be overlooked here. Old N an, as she was 
familiarly called, belonged to the more remote regime of 
Vaiden Hall. She was regarded as a quaint old personel 
relic of former days in the history of the Burdottes and 
had been a sort of privileged character among the family 
servants of a later period. To the misfortune of living 
beyond her time was added a species of confirmed cranki- 
ness. Her former services and faithfulness entitled her to 
the special care of the household for the remainder of her 
life. Her oddities were mostly confined to the lower apart- 
ments, principally the kitchen ; but her age and honorable 
position gave her that freedom of distinguished servants 
characteristic of the days of slavery. All parts of the 
house were free to Nan, though her decrepit condition 
now narrowed the stretch of her forays beyond the limited 
confines of down- stairs. It was only occasionally she 
managed to crawl up one flight of steps to peer into the 
old familiar haunts of the family’s former members, the 
glorious chivalry of the past. 

Many were her wierd stories of the place and the actor 


92 


THE MYSTERIOUS APARTMENT. 


there, which were attributed more to her fancy than to 
reality. There were mysterious signs about the doors, 
the windows and the floors, seen by her, that no one else 
could make out. The whip and the spur, the song and 
the bowl, of which she constantly spoke, had in her eyes 
an ancestral significance entirely unintelligible to others. 
The mistress of the olden time, according to her, was a 
saintly being — one could well imagine her ethereal and 
queenly — whom the angels bore from earth, “ afore de 
day ; ” the devils, so Old Nan’s story ran, broke up the 
household and carried off the master because of his 
wickedness. 

Old Nan’s peculiar characteristics were not uncommon 
in the days of slavery, especially at the time when the 
austerities of bondage were yielding to the advance of a 
higher order of civilization and intelligence. 

On the afternoon of the wedding of Jacques Burdotte 
and Dora Banks, Nan had managed to climb the stairway 
to the great hall on the second floor, and until a late hour 
amused herself by visiting the rooms, curiously peering 
into the nooks and corners, here and there, and resting 
herself, ever and anon, at her pleasure. 

Dora, attired for the nuptials, was about passing her on 
leaving her apartment for a moment, when she was 
accosted by the old servant. 

“ Lor ! how beautiful you look, darlin’ Dorry ! Dressin’ 
in black fur a weddin’ ! Bless me, chile, afore Marse in 
Heben, it’s a fun’ril it’s to be ! ” 

“Nan, my old mammy, what are you babbling about? 
Don’t you know there is trouble enough here ? 11 Dora 
laid her hand on her bosom as she spoke. 


THE MYSTERIOUS APARTMENT. 93 

“Yes, afore God, my darlin’ babe, tliar’s trouble fur 
yer ! I wouldn’t a had ’im for the price of de house ! ” 

“That is just what I have sold myself for!” thought 
Dora. “What strange things Nan sometimes fancies ! ” 
Then she added, aloud: “It is a fair bargain, Nan, to 
give myself for the old place. If he is satisfied, don’t you 
think I should be ? ” 

“ Indeedy, I don’t ! His hands are bloody like his great 
gran’-sur’s. Dorry, didn’t you knowed why he’s al’ays 
gloved ? ” 

“No, Nan; why? ” 

“ Stains thar, my chile ! ” 

“Nan, you should not talk so about your young 
master.” 

“ Don’t never talk ’bout ’im, Dorry ! It’s a evil day fur 
us — mind me, it’s a evil day! Oh! my darlin’ babe, Cap’in 
Jake ’ll go like his great gran’-sur ! May de angels per- 
surve my Dorry ! ” 

Dora moved on, leaving old Nan jabbering away, but 
an ominous shadow seemed to lurk near her which she 
could not drive back. The warning words of the aged 
servant appeared to assume shape, the bodily form of an 
incomprehensible apparition of gloom. 

After the wedding was over and ere the sunlight of the 
next morning broke into the bridal chamber, she saw 
signs of bloodstains in the green chest beneath the couch. 
But Jacques Burdotte was not conscious of the inspection 
she had made in the deep stupor caused by the potion 
she had administered for her purpose. There was some- 
thing of the Borgia courage in this apparently timid and 
frail woman. On the night of their nuptials the strong 


94 


THE MYSTERIOUS APARTMENT. 


and daring adventurer, who felt himself secure in her con. 
quest, became the victim of her art, which laid bare a 
secret with which, as a last resource, she would conquei 
destiny or die. At present, however, the silence of the 
grave must cover the disclosure made. Even her mother 
must not be informed of the dark discovery ; she herself 
must be the guardian of this apartment, which should be 
sealed from the intrusion or inspection of others. Jacques, 
perhaps, would so direct. She would enforce his injunc- 
tions. 

For the time being Dora Banks was miserable, strangely 
afflicted and besides there was a terrible dread hanging 
over her, filling her soul with the gloomiest forebodings. 

There was a reception the evening before the bridal 
party set out on the wedding tour. The guests or callers 
had all departed, and Mrs. Banks and her daughter were 
engaged in conversation in the former’s chamber. Dora, 
frail and young, appeared more like a beautiful blossom, 
easy to crush, than the daring bride who now schemed a 
contest with the man society called her husband, and 
whom she rejected as such with all the bitterness of a 
natural aversion, suddenly augmented by a horror that 
had presented itself almost at the very altar of their union. 
Her deep blue silk dress befitted her pale, delicate com- 
plexion on this occasion, and was in striking contrast with 
the attire of her stately and proud mother, who presented 
a picture the very opposite in her black satin, heavily 
laced and fringed, set with sprays and jewels to match. 
The brilliancy which usually characterized the counte- 
nance of each was gone — replaced by a serious expression 
which might have been mistaken for the misty gathering 


THE MYSTERIOUS APARTMENT. 


95 


of sadness at parting ; but there was more of the heroic 
in the appearance of the daughter, at this time, than of a 
filial sentiment of distressed affection on the brink of 
separation. 

The mother bent low to catch Dora’s words, which 
were uttered in an almost inaudible whisper : 

“ No ! I had rather it would be thus than otherwise 1” 

“ The fate, my child, you claim to be submissive to is 
Purely enough, without adding thereto a horror.” 

“You little dream of such a horror as it is! That 
chamber, mother, must be kept sealed when we are gone ; 
the secret it can disclose would be fatal to our welfare and 

position in E ! In the light of old Nan’s warning, 

which haunted me even at the nuptial altar, the meaning 
of the silent witness flashed into my mind, and last night 
I could not rest until every doubt was dispelled or the 
truth confirmed. I tell you the evidence of a dread horror 
is concealed in that chamber ! ” 

“ Dora, I now understand ; the old woman has played 
upon your fancy with her wild stories until you are quite 
ready to imbibe any strange notion from unmeaning relics 
of the family history.” 

“ Mother, I married Jacques to save you, to save my- 
self as I thought, to save Vaiden Hall from the disgrace 
of his claim upon us and our ancestral home ; but he must 
never return here. I go with him to leave him where 
the scandal must be lost forever. His stay here jeopar- 
dizes all hope.” 

“Oli ! Dora, how strangely you talk ! Your heart’s 
passion has turned your head. Jacques was not hated 
before Edmon Auley crossed your path as he drifted away 


96 


THE MYSTERIOUS APARTMENT. 


from Flora Straight’s charms. IIow fearfully wrought 
upon you must be by old Nan’s yarns and the silent relic 
of Jacques’ apartment ! It was terribly indiscreet in him 
to trust you with rights you have been unused to. He 
assured me he would seal that chamber and that it must 
not be entered until his return. Of course he was play- 
ing on the superstition of the servants, but his folly has 
frightened his bride out of her wits. I must see him 
alone and stop his wild freaks. ” 

“ Mother ! by all you hold dear say nothing to him, 
and, if you value your peace of mind, do not disturb 
that chamber! He meant all he said. A disclosure of 
its secret would be death to us I ” 

“ It is strange what power there frequently is in such 
youthful delusions. As the mistress of Yaiden Hall, 
these feelings will soon wear off. Believe me, Dora, the 
flattery of society and the honor of your position will 
make amends for the present gloomy state of your mind. 
You will, in time, become attached to the man who 
maintains your station, and, if you do not cover with for- 
getfulness these momentary suspicions you will regret the 
harsh judgment of this hour, which should be your 
happiest.” 

“ And is my most miserable ! ” groaned Dora. 

“ Come, cheer up, daughter, the silent witness is a mere 
nightmare, an apparition conjured up in your mind to 
destroy the draught of pleasure you should quaff with 
delight.” 

“ Mother ! ” 

“Yes, Dora; take my word for it, there will be a 
reaction.” 


THE MYSTERIOUS APARTMENT. 


97 


11 1 doubt it not, but sucb a reaction as now you little 
imagine, as would be wrong for your mind to realize. I 
will find a way out of my trouble without exposure. I 
long for the morrow when the curtain will fall upon Jac- 
ques’ presence here. He also desires to get away for a 
time. The silent witness pursues him, driving him to 
flight. I now understand what I did not before in Jac- 
ques’ restless desire for our wedding. He is impatient to 
escape. He dreads the silent witness.” 

u What is this silent witness of which you speak so 
strangely, Dora? ” 

“It is a story too fearful to be repeated, mother. I 
have told you all I should. Promise me that you 
will not betray me to Jacques by even a hint, and that 
you will permit no one in my absence to enter that 
chamber ! ” 

u I promise, my dear daughter, to comfort you. Now 
that I have heard your unpleasant fancies, dreams, or 
nightmares, you must rest and not indulge any more in 
such terrors.” 

The deep purport of Dora’s words did not impress 
itself upon her mother’s mind. Mrs. Banks knew how 
readily her daughter could be frightened by old Nan’s 
weird stories and she suspected that Jacques had been 
indulging in some freak, but exactly what it could be 
was beyond her imagination. Had it not been for her 
promise and the dread of making affairs more disagree- 
able, she would have sought her son-in-law and advised 
him of the wretched effect of his conduct. Had the real 
truth been presented to her mind, the picture might have 
darkened by its sombre hues the last promise of her 


98 


THE MYSTERIOUS APARTMENT. 


intense ambition. In sympathy with her aspirations, 
Dora saved her mother from a recital of the facts of the 
horror disclosed to herself the night before, and left her 
in the delusive fancy that the nightmare, as she had 
styled it, was the offspring of a fit of melancholy that a 
change of air and scene would soon remove. 

Dora had accomplished her end. She had thrown a 
mystery around that apartment that would seal its door 
and hide its secret from intruders. Captain Burdotte 
might do as much, but she would not trust to his rash- 
ness, or recklessness. He had become hardened and took 
too many risks. A portion of the dare-devil spirit of 
his great grand-sire might be one of his characteristics. 


THE STRANGER AND THE MUTE. 


99 


CHAPTER IX. 

THE STRANGER AND THE MUTE. 

F LORA STRAIGHT upbraided herself for the 
injustice her thoughts had done Edmon Auley ; she 
had made an innocent pastime, in which he had sought 
relief for a soul troubled and burdened with the severity 
of the test she had forced upon him, the subject of a mis- 
construction. She shed bitter tears over her imagined 
offense. 

On his part Edmon Auley was amazed at the folly of 
an infatuation which had led him so far and delivered him 
up a captive to woman’s art. His mind for a moment 
only turned toward her whom his reckless inconstancy had 
wronged. Flora, indeed, had wounded his pride, but 
why should he have been wounded? She had said, 
gently, it is true, “ go,” and he, while in uncertainty and 
doubt, had yielded to the temptations of another’s charms. 
There was no consolation in the fact that he found him- 
self the victim of a capricious flirt, however much he 
deserved such punishment. He determined to leave 
R that he might escape for the present from the asso- 

ciations by which he was surrounded. Dora’s sudden 
marriage was an incomprehensible mystery to him, the 
more so as he did not and could not believe that she 
entertained the slightest affection for Captain Burdotte. 
Before starting on his contemplated journey — whither 
6 


100 


THE STRANGER AND THE MUTE. 


he knew not — Edmon Auley went to see Mrs. Chapel for 
the purpose of securing -the services of Dunny-Deaf as 
an attendant. The latter was in the employ of Mrs. 
Sealey, but not having much for him to do that lady readily 
yielded his services, as she said travel would certainly 
benefit the lad. Dunny-Deaf was well known to be 
quite handy, and was somewhat of an expert in compre- 
hending such duties as were usually required of him. 
Mr. Mullins had detected this quality in him and had 
taken great pains to develop it. 

The mode of travel over the greater part of the 
country, at that day, was by stage coaches. It was not 
yet the era of railroads, though all the large cities were 
either connected or rapidly being united by systems of 
railways. 

Several days elapsed before Edmon Auley was quite 
ready to depart ; but the time finally came, and as there 
was no projected purpose in his movements, he deter- 
mined to stage by day and rest at night. In this way he 
could amuse, as well as refresh himself by the variety of 
travel without over-exertion or fatigue. In pursuance of 
this method he halted at a village inn, on his route, the 

first evening after leaving K , and there a singular 

incident occurred, after supper, that gave rise in his mind 
to a new as well as a peculiar train of reflection. 

Edmon had just taken a seat on the front piazza of the 
inn. Dunny-Deaf had followed him from the table and 
was leaning against the rail when a stranger, who had 
also stepped out on the porch, spoke to the boy in an 
uncouth, but rather familiar and playful manner : 

“ Well, my little lad, where are you from ? ” 


THE STRANGER AND THE MUTE. 


101 


II He is a deaf mute,” replied Edmon, who was ready 
to take advantage of any incident arising, however slight 
or unimportant, which offered variety. 

“ Mute, eh ! ” Where is he from ? ” 

“R , eh?” drawled out the questioner, whose tone 

indicated that he might not be altogether unacquainted 
with the place, and Edmon yielded to a desire to make 
inquiry on that point. “I think I do know the 
town,” was the reply. “ It’s a hundred miles, more or 
less, likely less, down the country. Some parties passed 
here t’other day from thar. I took them to be wed- 
deners!” The last remark interested Auley. He 
knew that Captain Burdotte and his bride had passed 
along this route a few days before, but felt no little 
surprise, on his first day out, to hear of their move- 
ments in this abrupt manner from a mere stranger. The 
latter seemed inclined to continue his communications 
on this subject and further remarked : 

“ Sing’lar fellow, the one I took to be the groom ! The 
gal must have had a strange fancy — dashing fine piece of 
feminine make-up she was, a reg’lar sensation ! She never 
married that blossom for love ! But it’s all right, I s’pose ; 
fashion and money salves and plasters a good deal — eh ?” 

Auley was rather amused at the expressive frankness 
of the stranger and revealed his mirth in his reply. 

II I was much in the dark about that until your allusion 
shed light on my mind. I was inclined, myself, to think 
that there was less sentiment in their marriage than some 
other motive, but your remark has suggested the correct 
idea.” 


102 


THE STRANGER AND THE MUTE. 


“ All some other motive ! If you mean love when yon 
say sentiment, there is nothing in the fellow to warm it 
up ; rather much to arouse a feeling of aversion or con- 
tempt.” 

Edmon was astonished at this change of style in the 
speaker’s language, and looked up at him with an inquir- 
ing expression on his countenance which the stranger 
detected immediately, but continued : 

“ You see, the girl didn’t seem to be at all cheery — 
rather gloomy I thought for so young a beauty ; but cir- 
cumstances alters cases. Her partner looked cloudy, and I 
quizzed ’im some. I seen ’e didn’t take well to talk, an’ 
I bored ’im the more. I asked ’im where they were 
from ; the register had told me that — some people don’t 
like to be too partick’lar, however. His answer was 
misty, but to the pint. I next wanted to know if they 
had caught up with the feller who’d killed old Mullins 
yit. I knowed they hadn’t without asking, but I wanted 
to see if his mind weren’t interested in the question. An 
awful shadow fell on ’im and the way he scowled at me 
was fearful. Do you know the feller? ” 

“ Slightly.” 

Edmon Auley had passed from surprise to intense 
astonishment as the recital progressed. The manner and 
language of the stranger were singularly interesting to 
begin with, and his description of the principal members of 
the bridal party assumed a wonderful significance when 
taken in connection with the allusions made to a dark 
and mysterious event. 

A series of questions and answers now followed in 
rapid succession. 


THE STRANGER AND THE MUTE. 


103 


“ Do you know the feller that killed Mullins? ” asked 
the stranger. 

“No; and nobody else knows who did the deed.” 

“ Don’t be too sure about that ! But the man who is 
# suspected ? ” 

“ Oh! yes, I know him.” 

“ But you don’t believe him guilty ? ” 

“ No ; I feel sure he is not.” 

“ And you can’t imagine who the assassin can be ? ” 

“ No ; can you? ” 

Edmon gazed straight into the face of the stranger, 
but the latter’s countenance wore an inexplicable look 
of stolidity as he parried the young man’s question with 
another : 

“ Is this the mute that was at the place where the job 
was done, eh ? ” 

“ Yes,” Edmon laconically answered, somewhat disap- 
pointed and chagrined ; but in a moment his interest was 
again excited by a question of deeper significance than 
any which had preceded it. 

“ I suppose he can’t make any signs, eh ? ” 

The look of stolidity Auley had observed, a second or 
two before, on the stranger’s countenance gave way for 
the moment to a glance of penetrating keenness. 

“ I never thought of that in connection with the event 
to which you refer,” replied Edmon. 

“ He may know who done the job that night, eh? ” 

“It is not known whether he saw the murder, or 
whether any crime was committed.” 

“ Don’t you believe that ! There was a murder and a 
robbery ! A horrible revelation is yet to be made by 


104 


THE STRANGER AND THE MUTE. 


this mute as the silent witness of the crime ! Where are 
you taking the boy ? ” 

Here was a poser. Auley did not know himself. The 
stranger’s last remarks had somewhat confused his thoughts. 
There appeared to him to be a great deal of smoke with no fire 
in this conversation, except the hint concerning the silent 
witness. He took Dunny-Deaf by the hand and moved 
away, remarking : 

“ As we start early in the morning, we are compelled 
to retire in good time.” 

“ You will not return to R , I suppose ?” interrupted 

the stranger. 

“ No ; we go forward ; good-night.” 

In his room Edmon reflected upon this singular incident 
and conversation. He could not resist the force of the 
impression that some effort should have been made at the 
time of the Bailey Mullins tragedy to derive some intel- 
ligible information by means of signs from this deaf and 
dumb witness. Nearly one hundred miles from the scene, 
days and even weeks after the event had occurred, the 
idea had been oddly suggested by a stranger in a very 
peculiar way. But the man did not seem to lack infor- 
mation in regard to the facts connected with that affair. 
Evidently the particulars of the murder, if murder it 
was, had spread with considerable accuracy to some dis- 
tance from R . Certainly, if Dunny-Deaf had wit- 

nessed a tragedy that night, by a slight effort it could have 
been made known, even if the assassin could not have 
been detected in that way. Why was the stranger, some- 
times rough in his manner and expression and at other 
times quite refined in his speech and behavior, so inquisi- 


THE STRANGER AND THE MUTE. 


105 


live and so positive in his statements ? Did he not know 
the boy was a mute when he first addressed him, and was 
not this mode of introduction merely a ruse ? His last 
question indicated a desire also to know in what direction 
they would travel. The man’s reference to Burdotte 
could not be misunderstood. Why had he covered him 
with a shadow, and why had he taken so much pains to 
run over, in this recital, the circumstances of his meeting 
with Burdotte at this wayside inn, where the bridal 
party had stopped for refreshments? Perhaps, after all, 
the natural curiosity of the man accounted for his knowl- 
edge, and his inquisitive character also explained his 
familiarity and talkative disposition. There were many 
such singular persons in the world, quite a number of 
whom were very pronounced in their opinions. These 
people usually accepted inference for fact, and their imagi- 
nation often played havoc with their discretion. Way- 
side inns were just the places for such curiosities of human 
kind. 

The next morning Edmon Auley, as was his habit, was 
up early. He found Dunny-Deaf already dressed ; for 
the first time, he noticed and became interested in the in- 
telligence of the mute, and determined to make a few ex- 
periments with him. The method of introduction to the 
object he had in view was the difficulty ; and here he 
soon discovered himself entirely at sea and foiled in the 
design of acting upon the stranger’s hint of the evening 
before. Dunny-Deaf readily understood the signs, but 
what he did not appear to comprehend was their applica- 
tion. Edmon at length realized that he must adopt some 
other mode of examining the mute if he would succeed, 


106 


THE STRANGER AND THE MUTE. 


so, giving up the task for the present as hopeless, he left 
the room and went down-stairs. 

On his return he found the door of his room open and 
Dunny-Deaf absent. He at once searched for the mute, 
when to his surprise, on looking into the room adjoining 
his, the door of which was ajar, he saw the stranger of 
the evening before seated at a table and the lad standing 
by his side, looking at a paper that was spread out before 
them. What was on the paper he could not see, but 
both the boy and his companion were vigorously making 
use of the sign language of the deaf and dumb. Their 
backs were toward the door and, hence, Edmon was 
unobserved by them. At length, as the stranger was 
about to change his position or to rise from his seat, 
Edmon stepped noiselessly back into his apartment, to 
which shortly afterwards Dunny-Deaf returned. The 
boy appeared to be considerably excited, and went through 
certain motions, supposed by Auley to be explanatory of 
his absence or proceedings, and which he constantly 
emphasized by going to the door and pointing in the 
direction of the room he had just quitted. There was 
much earnestness exhibited in the action of the mute, 
and Auley’s interest was at last aroused to such a degree 
by his inexplicable pantomime that he determined to 
go to the stranger’s apartment and request an explana- 
tion. But, on putting this determination into execution, 
he discovered that the room had been vacated, and was 
compelled to defer his object until he should meet the 
stranger down-stairs. 

At the breakfast table Edmon Auley anxiously scanned 
those present, expecting to find among them the person 


THE STRANGER AND THE MUTE. 


107 


concerning whom his curiosity had been highly inten- 
sified by the singular incident of that morning, but the 
man was not there. This was a great disappointment to 
him, as he had intended to observe him closely and, if 
possible, decipher his real character. Edmon was now 
more than ever resolved, at the next opportunity offering, 
to sound him thoroughly in regard to his knowledge of 
the Bailey Mullins tragedy and his apparent interest 
in it. 

The morning meal finished, he stepped up to the 
clerk’s desk and settled his bill; and upon inquiry he 
was further disappointed to learn that the person he 
wished to see had departed. 

“How long since?” he asked, anxiously. 

“ About one hour ago.” 

“ When did he arrive here ? ” 

“ Yesterday, just before the coach.” 

“ How was he traveling? ” 

“On horseback.” 

“ Do you know where he is from ? ” 

“ No, sir ; when he was here the time before this he 

hired a horse to take him to R . He has been here 

on several occasions and registers as Elias Noland.” 

“Singular!” ejaculated Auley, as with the assistance 
of the clerk he found the dates of the stranger’s visits 
and made a note of them. 

“ All aboard ! ” 

The stage coach was ready in front of the inn, and in 
a few moments the travelers were ensconced therein. 
The sharp crack of the driver’s whip was heard r and the 
heavily loaded vehicle lumbered away on its journey. 


108 


A NEW ACQUAINTANCE. 


CHAPTER X. 

A NEW ACQUAINTANCE. 

D UNNY-DEAF sat by a window of the coach, 
gazing restlessly upon nature’s panorama of hills, 
brooks, forests, fields and beautiful groves. It was a 
fresh, bright summer morning, inviting attention to the 
varied changes of scene along the route. 

Edmon Auley had taken a back seat, where he could 
muse and dream away the hours. Nothing seemed to 
interest him save a silent self-communion. Strange ideas 
were agitating and running through his mind, like the 
fancies of a feverish brain. His thoughts were actively 
engaged on a peculiar problem involving a dark history, 
in which were involved those with whom he had recently 
been strangely associated and closely intimate. His mind 
passed from one chain of reflection to another, suggestions 
assuming shape in his brain only to be dissipated by 
other circumstances in the interminable maze. 

What brought the intruder of the previous night to 
the inn ? Why had he been there before ? Where did 
he obtain his knowledge of the murder and robbery — as 
he had alleged — of Mr. Mullins ? Why was he traveling 
on horse-back and not in the coach ? How strange it 
was that chance had brought the mute and himself to the 
inn to be questioned by the stranger ! Who murdered 
Bailey Mullins was a question again rising to the surface. 


A NEW ACQUAINTANCE. 109 

But how remarkable, indeed, was it that the place of 
investigation should be so far removed from R . 

That Frank Eldon had been at the old gentleman’s 
house that night was a fact well established, that he was 
familiar with the deceased’s affairs was equally certain, 
and that he had been engaged at a late hour that even- 
ing in some business transaction with Mr. Mullins was 
also understood. But what had the stranger at the 
village inn to do with these facts ? He had only casually 
alluded to Frank Eldon, whose character warranted no 
assumption of his guilt or guilty knowledge of the mur- 
der. But who was the assassin ? He could not keep 
this question down : it seemed to be written all over the 
coach. 

Public sentiment had been expressed and public feel- 
ing deeply moved in R at the time of the tragedy. 

The excitement, however, had about subsided there. But 

here, out in the hills, a hundred miles from R , was a 

new phase of the matter, rising like a bubble from the 
depths of still water, here, at a small isolated stage 
terminus, was a new feature of peculiar significance. He 
must believe that the officious intruder at the village inn 
was in some way connected with a scheme to detect the 
murderer of Bailey Mullins. There was enough, at 
least, to strongly suggest the idea that the mystery of 
the Mullins affair was being worked up, and, if so, it 
was not an unreasonable inference that Elias Noland was 
a detective shadowing Captain Jacques Burdotte as the 
chief actor in the dark deed of robbery and murder. 
The thought was startling. 

Supposing Burdotte was the assassin, could Dora Banks 


110 


A NEW ACQUAINTANCE. 


liave been a party to the awful deed, or have possessed 
after knowledge of it that linked her destiny to that of 
the perpetrator of the horror ? Even Noland could detect 
the fact that love had not been the motive of their nnion. 
Could it be possible that this crime was in any way an 
element of their marriage ? Edmon Auley could as well 
have doubted that the sun would rise as to have ques- 
tioned Dora Banks’ love for him on the evening they 
parted. If she loved him at that time she still loved 
him ! Why then had she put him aside for Burdotte ? 
The motive must have been a strong one ; had it also 
been a terrible one ? He must not think of it. Edmon 
Auley shrank with dread from the thought that he too 
might be unconsciously pursuing Burdotte. Was it a 
providential interposition that impelled him along this 
route, not knowing whither he was going, or the definite 
object of his journey ? Why was he traveling in this 
unintelligible, mysterious way ? Why had he brought 
the mute, a silent witness, the only observer, perhaps, of 
the transactions at the home of Mr. Mullins on that night, 
to be examined and interviewed, as he evidently had been 
that morning, by the stranger at the village inn ? Where 
would all this end, and what would that end be when 
reached ? 

Such were, in part, Edmon Auley’s dreary reflections 
as the coach rolled and tossed along. 

Dinner was taken at an inn by the roadside, where the 
horses were changed. Some of the passengers stopped at 
this point to view the natural curiosities and would resume 
their journey the next day. At its departure a gentle- 
man entered the coach who had not been one of its pas- 


A NEW ACQUAINTANCE. 


Ill 


sengers before. He was dressed much after the style 
of tourists, wearing pants fitting tightly about the knees 
and stuffed into his boot-legs, a half-frock jacket closely 
buttoned and a low-crowned hat with a broad brim. A 
satchel hung on his left side, held by a strap passing over 
the right shoulder. Edmon had fallen back into his reverie, 
from which he was aroused, later in the afternoon, by a 
slight shock as the coach lumbered over a gulley in the 
road washed out by a recent rain. As he regained his 
equipoise after the jolt, his eye encountered that of the 
gentleman who had got in at the last station. 

“On your way to the Springs, I suppose,” quietly 
remarked the gentleman. 

“Not exactly,” replied Edmon. 

“By all means you ought to stop over. Do you reside 
in these parts?” “No sir.” 

“The finest resort in the world, sir — the Springs! 
Natural scenery unequalled; splendid arrangements ; ac- 
commodations unsurpassed. The season has opened 
grandly, with a large number of visitors ; pleasure and 
health. You would feel better in twenty-four hours.” 

“I am not in search of either pleasure or health,” 
replied Edmon. 

This was a brief but pointed way of disposing of his 
loquacious companion. The man of words, however, 
was not as easily knocked over as the man of straw; 
after a momentary silence, he asked : 

“From what part of the country are you traveling?” 

“Perhaps it is as well to answer and be amused,” 
thought Edmon, as he laconically responded: “From 



112 


A NEW ACQUAINTANCE. 


“ I declare ! There is a couple from your town at the 
Springs — recently married; started on a tour, but the 
bride was over-wearied and they made a halt at this 
famous place to rest. Quite a noted pair ; the lady espe- 
cially creates a sensation — so fascinating — exquisite! ” 
u Burdotte ! ” exclaimed Edmon, involuntarily, fully 
aroused by this information. 

u That’s the name. I suppose you know them ? ” 

“ I have some acquaintance with the bride ; I met her 
husband once, but know nothing of him.” 

The conversation flagged for a time. Edmon Auley 
was revolving in his mind this new coincidence. He had 
determined to stop for awhile at this public resort, and 
Captain Burdotte, with his beautiful bride, had preceded 
him there. What a meeting there must be between him- 
self and Dora ! It could not be avoided unless he aban- 
doned the idea of a sojourn at the Springs. This he was 
unwilling to do. If Dora could courageously face out 
their meeting, he thought there was no reason why he 
should shun it. These reflections were interrupted by an 
exclamation from the gentleman by whose information 
they had been aroused : 

“ How lovely ! Grand ! ” 

There was a wooded ridge, with a rock-ribbed, precip- 
itous front, marking an outline on the blue sky. About 
midway up the ridge, the sun, in all its evening splendor, 
capped a solitary peak with a crown of glory. 

“ Glorious ! ” continued the gentleman. “ How enrapt- 
uring is the rich grandeur of such a scene ! What a sight 
to look upon l ” 


A NEW ACQUAINTANCE. 


113 


It was, indeed, one of those grand exhibitions of nature 
which force involuntary exclamations of admiration or 
astonishment from those who suddenly behold them. 

Edmon gazed in silent wonder at the sublime scene for 
an instant and then, turning to the declaimer, who all the 
while had continued to dilate upon the beauties of the 
spectacle, remarked : 

“ Nature’s displays are sometimes wonderfully touch- 
ing to the sensibilities.” 

“ Such an exhibition would inspire the dullest mind.” 

“Yes; an artist’s more than that of any other.” 

u Hardly more than that of a poet.” 

“ They are akin in their natures.” 

Edmon Auley began to appreciate his new acquaint- 
ance ; perhaps, after all, he was simply a gentleman of 
leisure, an artist, or poet, roaming around among those 
hills to satisfy a love for the marvelous in nature. 

Taking a roll of drawing paper from his satchel, the 
gentleman said : 

“ Here are a few pencil sketches hurriedly made while 
strolling about among the valleys and mountains of this 
place. These scratches will serve to keep memory fresh, 
like the incomplete scraps of a traveler’s note-book. 

The coach had come to a stop ; the Springs had been 
reached. On alighting, the artist gave his card to 
Edmon, as he remarked : 

u I hope you will prolong your stay at this place, and 
that we shall meet again.” 

The speaker emphasized the last words of this phrase 
in a way that Edmon Auley could not avoid thinking 
peculiar. 


114 


MRS. BACKS’ PROGRAMME. 


CHAPTER XT. 

MRS. BANKS’ PROGRAMME. 

“Nature hath framed strange fellows in hertime.’*— Shakespere. 

E VERY one is more or less conscious of an element of 
pride in human nature which adds importance or 
influence to character, in some degree, in the various 
positions or relations of life. This feeling is made mani- 
fest in us, no matter how unpretentious our position or 
humble our calling. Although this principle is often 
woefully perverted, its purpose is undoubtedly good, and 
was so from the beginning. It is a stimulus to the best 
in everything. That man who can feel proud of what 
he has done in any of the useful objects of life has, in all 
probability, done better for this innate incentive which 
prompted him to accomplish the very best his art or 
genius could achieve. Though this element is refined 
by education or increasing intelligence, it cannot be sup- 
pressed ; and it is, perhaps, well that it cannot be. It is 
the perversion of this stimulus to improvement which 
brings upon it censure and causes much misapprehension 
in the minds of many concerning it. 

This element of human nature, perverted to a selfish 
end, predominated in Mrs. Banks. Even in her, how- 
ever, there might have been a saving virtue, if she had 
restrained her aspirations from an encroachment upon 
the rights or privileges of others and not sought in her 


MBS. BANKS’ PROGEAMME. 


115 


ambition to strike at tbeir honor and integrity. There 
were reasons why she should manifest some special 
pride in her position. She had risen to be an authority 
in all matters of good taste among , her set, and her name 
gave eclat to whatever interested her circle. But there 
were inner motives in her case which at the present time 
made self-gratification more than ever necessary. A 
lurking foreboding seemed to be pursuing her, to elude 
which she must resort to the flattery of her associates ; 
otherwise, her mind might become the victim of dis- 
quieting scruples, and the prey of doubts and fears of the 
most distressing and oppressive description. Previous to 
the marriage of her daughter, her ambition had sought 
and secured its end. The conditions of the union of 
Dora and Jacques, with the element of opposition so 
suddenly springing up in Dora, were a sad and some- 
what mortifying disappointment to Mrs. Banks as affect- 
ing her principal scheme, added to which the state of her 
daughter’s mind, wrought upon by some fancied spell or 

dreaded reality at the time of her departure from R , 

might in the end lead to consequences very unpleasant, 
not to say direful, in their prospective relations to society. 

In this situation it became essential for Mrs. Banks 
either to cease indulging in the bright dreams of her 
pre-eminence or, at once, to take advantage of the relief 
afforded in her position as chief of her social set. She 
decided to remain the model for imitation and to satisfy 
the cravings of her inordinate vanity. Thus she could 
escape those reflections least apt to enhance her peace or 
enjoyment. She would accept her honors and enjoy her 
triumph. If her ambition had been content to stop here 
7 


116 


MRS. BANKS’ PROGRAMME. 


there would have been fewer incidents in this recital to 
narrate. 

One day, shortly after the marriage of her daughter, 
Mrs. Banks was at the residence of Mrs. Toll, engaged 
in a lively conversation with her friend. 

These two ladies were very much alike mentally and 
morally, but very unlike physically. Mrs. Toll was a 
small, spare woman, showing the wearing effect of time. 
Her gray eyes peeped out from lids which seemed always 
to require an effort to keep them open. Her voice was 
low and sharp, and she spoke with a hurried, abrupt 
articulation. Her thin, white hair rolled back from a 
wrinkled and faded brow, like frost on a leaden surface. 

In all these respects the mistress of Vaiden Hall was 
her opposite. Her voice was remarkable for its full 
tone. She was an excellent specimen of the average 
female, and appeared as young as a woman of thirty-five, 
although she could not have been less than ten years 
older. Considering her height and fullness of figure, 
it was singular what small feet carried so much weight. 
Large eyes, smooth, full cheeks, and an abundance of coal 
black, glossy hair completed the upper finish of the ele- 
gant leader of fashion in R . 

At the time above referred to Mrs. Banks and Mrs. 
Toll were discussing a subject that sinee that day has 
engaged the wisest minds in the solution of the problem 
it involves. Their reference to it, however, was only 
incidental. 

“ Mr. Lent,” said Mrs. Banks, pursuing the topic she 
had introduced, u has had a new revelation ; he has had 
a vision that we are all akin to beasts, or something 


MRS. BANKS 7 PROGRAMME. 


117 


lower, in our origin. He has discovered recently that the 
Bible is mistaken when it says that God made man a 
little lower than the angels . 77 

“His wife, I believe, has almost ceased going to 
church, and his brutal doctrine may account for it , 77 
solemnly added Mrs. Toll. 

“ It is shameful to have our ancestors so abused in 
their absence ! 77 

“Horrid, I should say, to take advantage of them 
when they are powerless to speak ! 77 

“ It is a scandal to the living . 77 

“ I think so, too . 77 

“And that is not all — he has absolutely preached 
Genesis all to shreds . 77 

“Indeed! The serpent we can spare; but he surely 
left us the garden and trees ? 77 

“ He boldly declared last Sunday that the account of 
the creation is meaningless . 77 

“ Shocking ! Just think of his poor wife ! 77 and Mrs. 
Toll sighed. 

“ Why, I am told that many of the younger members 
of the church begin to imbibe his ideas, and that even at 
the last meeting of the Literary and Science Association 
of our young men, one of the members read a paper on 
1 Man’s Origin , 7 in which he endeavored to show that the 
genus homo, I believe he called it, was descended directly 
from the ape tribe . 77 

“ And that without a missing link ? 77 

“Yes . 77 

“ It is fearful to imagine what our origin must have 
been, when we think of the terms necessary to explain it . 77 


118 


MRS. BACKS’ PROGRAMME. 


This topic was not so dry or uninteresting to these 
ladies that they did not enjoy it. When together they 
never failed to be witty, and seldom did they meet 
without a motive. 

Rev. Mr. Lent’s references, at times, to the natural ori- 
gin of man, from a Scriptural standpoint, as a worm of 
the dust, and his explanations gave ground for much 
comment and furnished material for criticism among the 
rigid adherents to dogma. Up to the present, however, 
there had been no serious upheaval of sentiment pro or 
con. The waters were apparently still and placid, but it 
was not likely they would so continue, if this prelude to 
the spicy conversation of the two leaders of fashion in 

R was to be taken as an indication of what might be 

agitating the minds of others. 

“I observe,” said Mrs. Banks, changing the drift of her 
remarks from the pulpit novelties of the preacher to his 
social habits in an incidental way, “ he visits the Straights 
frequently of late. Only to-day I saw him in company 
with Mrs. Sealey coming from that direction. He is 
said to be very attentive there.” 

It is not unlikely the latter expression was all pure 
fiction in the imagination of the speaker, and yet there 
was fact in the fancy. 

“ I presume his visits are purely ministerial ? ” and 
Mrs. Toll sighed again as she added : “ His wife is so 
young and pretty, too ! ” 

“ His visits are, of course, purely ministerial. The 
present situation of the family is undoubtedly well- calcu- 
lated to inspire sympathy.” 

“ You gave Mrs. Sealey ’s introduction into society here 


MRS. banks’ programme. 119 

your sanction. What do you know of her?” inquired 
Mrs. Toll. 

“Nothing, absolutely nothing. Skaggs is responsible 
for her. He has no wife; whether she has a husband or 
not, I have not learned.” 

This remark produced a hearty laugh at the expense 
of the unconscious subjects of comment. 

“ She is handsome, and adapts herself readily to every 
one.” 

“ Oh ! she is evidently a person of remarkable address, 
but by some oversight she has not been properly ac- 
counted for.” 

“ Perhaps she supposes Skaggs has faithfully presented 
everything in regard to her.” 

“ It may be ; but Skaggs always acts for a fee, and she 
may not have retained him further than for the securing 
of a residence.” 

“ And men don’t appreciate the necessities of the social 
circle.” 

“Lawyers, especially, are too professional here as 
everywhere. Having employed him in a slight service, 
and being influenced by her address, Skaggs no doubt 
felt somewhat obliged to her, and really his gallantry 
may have been touched in her behalf.” 

“ Her attractions may have been the moving cause of 
such attentions so conspicuously shown.” 

“Not unlikely; he may be looking around. It’s a 
wonder he don’t get married.” 

“ He certainly has the means.” 

“ But if he did not lack the sentiment of love, it must 
have been heretofore latent in his breast ” 


120 


MRS. BANKS’ PROGRAMME. 


“ And the vital fire may have been kindled by a spark 
from this lady’s eyes ! Thus the riddle of Mr. Skaggs’ 
solicitude for Mrs. Sealey’s introduction into society is 
solved.” 

“Not exactly; it is all speculation; but have you 
noticed that Miss Flora Straight makes herself quite at 
home at the mansion ? ” 

u Oh ! yes ; her piano is there, and Mrs. Sealey humors 
Flora’s musical propensities. She must feel lonesome at 
the mansion, and, probably, she enjoys Flora’s visits.” 

The former prominence of the Straights was sufficient 
to account for the malicious spirit of witticism on the 
part of Mrs. Banks at the expense of that family, but it 
had really no connection with the attitude of the mistress 
of Yaiden Hall toward Mr. Lent. Mrs. Toll did not grasp 
the full scope of her friend’s object in the introduction of 
her comments on the preacher’s doctrinal discourses, and 
Mrs. Banks was too shrewd to disclose the purpose she 
had in view. There was a motive to her wit quite dif- 
ferent from that pleasantry which characterized much of 
Mrs. Toll’s criticism. Mrs. Banks had been displeased 
by Mr. Lent’s sermon on u The Sacredness of the Mar- 
riage Vow,” and her prejudices were fully aroused 
against him. The preacher had been very severe in his 
censure of the growing tendency of the times to ignore 
the sacred character of marriage and to reduce it to a 
mere civil contract shorn of every element of religion. 
His remarks were eloquent and forcible on the holiness 
of the marriage bond among God’s people, and he 
enforced his comments with an enthusiasm and strength 
of diction that were very effective. 


MRS. BANKS’ PROGRAMME. ^ 


121 


His handling of the subject seemed to have a direct 
application to the recent event at Vaiden Hall, and its 
mistress was now seeking an opportunity to resent the 
supposed officiousness. 

The casual reference, ironical as it may have intention- 
ally been, to Mr. Lent’s visits to the Straights, by Mrs. 
Banks was, as intimated, a fancy only in her mind, yet 
there was truth in the suspicion set forth. Gracie Straight 
was quite ill. Her case was a mystery to the physician 
and entirely baffled his skill in its treatment. The roses 
on her cheeks had all faded as though they had been 
touched by an autumn frost, her pulse beat slowly and 
unevenly, her appetite was gone and her energy was 
dying out. She had steadily grown more helpless daily, 
for some time, notwithstanding every effort had been 
made to rally her from this condition. A few of her old 
acquaintances, hearing of her strange ailment, came to 
see her with expressions of sympathy and concern. Among 
others, the pastor of the church, in which the family still 
held its membership, called often. The tender nursing, 
the loving watching and the medical treatment employed 
produced no restorative effect. Grief lay at the bottom 
of her disease, and her disappointed hopes were gnawing 
at her heart. There was a remedy — but one only. Why 
could it not be applied? 

The parents had talked it over, for they were conscious 
of the trouble, and Mr. Straight was on the point of im- 
parting certain information to his wife that he felt the 
necessity of the case called for, when an event occurred 
which, for a time, prevented any allusion to it. 

It was a hot, calm, sultry day, such as causes a torpid 


122 


MRS. BANKS’ PROGRAMME. 


state of feeling to pervade the human system, producing 
a kind of stupor or exhaustion of all energy, and making 
life drag as if oppressed by some mysterious weight. 

On that depressing afternoon Gracie Straight dragged 
herself to her room. Much of the time she hack been up, 
wearily sitting about the house, or moving aimlessly from 
one apartment to another. An hour or more after she 
retired, Flora, who had been at the mansion, returned, 
and, as was her habit, immediately sought her sister. 
When she entered the chamber, the sight which greeted 
her produced such a shock as to cause her to stagger and 
almost faint. There lay Gracie on her couch the very 
picture of death itself, her face rigid and bloodless, her 
eyes closed and motionless, while over her bosom in the 
centre of which a rosebud Avas fixed — indicative, perhaps, 
of a love born never to bloom — her arms lay as if em- 
bracing a dead hope within. 

Flora stooped over the apparently lifeless form, and 
kissed the cold brow, while her tears fell upon the faded 
cheeks. She tenderly laid her fair hand upon that still 
bosom and felt no respiratory response to her soft touch. 
She gently raised the white arm, and it fell back power- 
lessly. Flora’s piercing cry, as she sank in terrible anguish 
by the bedside, brought her mother to the chamber, and 
Mrs. Straight realized at a glance the bereavement that 
had come upon the household. 

Presently the father entered and bent sorrowfully over 
his child. Mrs. Sealey, who had been sent for, also ar- 
rived, breathless from the speed with which she had come. 
Tears rose to her eyes as she gazed down upon Gracie’s 
ashen face. 


MRS. BANKS’ PROGRAMME. 


123 


The hurriedly summoned doctor turned gravely away 
from the bedside after a brief examination, sadly shaking 
his head. There was no hope; it was understood to be 
death. Then low, half-subdued sobs broke forth and 
were all that disturbed the silence. 

Mr. Straight’s affairs had been wearing a brighter 
aspect for the past few weeks, and from information im- 
parted by Mr. Skaggs that day he expected shortly to be 
relieved of the greater portion of the load of his recent 
complications. 

“Nothing can be done with the bonds now,” said the 
lawyer, “ as stocks are yet too depreciated, though money 
is getting easier. There is ample time still for our pur- 
poses. It is best as it is; nothing will be sold, no sacri- 
fices made. Your business can be resumed at the point 
where it stopped. Nobody will be injured by a little 
further delay. The whole affair, however, must be kept 
secret, as a disclosure of the fact that the bonds were in 
Frank’s possession might neutralize all our efforts to 
recover the stolen money. We must be patient and bide 
our time.” 

It was from this conversation with his lawver that Mr. 
Straight was summoned to the bedside of his daughter, 
where the breaking sunshine of elated hopes was over- 
clouded by a deeper, darker gloom. 


124 


BROUGHT FACE TO FACE. 


CHAPTER XII. 

BROUGHT FACE TO FACE. 

“She is a woman, therefore to be won.” 

I MMEDIATELY upon his arrival at the Springs, 
Edmon Auley received a note from Mr. Skaggs 
requesting him to remain there until he heard further 
from him. Beyond the lawyer’s request and the state- 
ment that he would advise him in a short time of his 
purpose in the matter, Edmon was left entirely in the 
dark. The request, however, at that moment, was in 
itself very surprising. What could it mean ? Auley 
mused over this additional link in the chain of exceed- 
ingly singular circumstances connected with his 
experience of the last few days and could make nothing 
of it, save that he seemed to be gradually assuming a 
close relation to some mysterious object. 

From speculating as to what might be about to happen 
Edmon passed to the consideration of his present situ- 
ation at this resort, which he now began to realize was 
rather delicate and complicated. He certainly would 
meet Dora and explanation of what had brought him to 
the Springs or what would prolong his stay was impos- 
sible. It would hardly be proper for him to avoid a 
meeting. Indeed, he would not only be lacking in the 
common social courtesies of good-breeeding, but would 
also expose how deeply he felt his wound, if he failed, at 


BROUGHT FACE TO FACE. 


125 


the earliest moment, to pay his respects to Mr. and Mrs. 
Burdotte. Surely, in any event, Dora could attribute his 
visit but to one motive. The suspicion would undoubt- 
edly lurk in her mind that he could not shake off the 
force which gave impetus to his feelings on the occasion 
of their last meeting. Should he dispel the illusion, if 
he discovered that she fondly entertained it ? Why 
should he, if he suspected that Dora found pleasure in 
such a fancy? He did not disguise from himself the fact 
that her marriage had seriously disturbed him and 
destroyed much of his faith in woman ; but if his coming 
to this place gave rise in her mind to thoughts sweet to 
cherish, be it so ; he would not dissolve the charm, even 
though it only served to nourish a vanity in which all 
women, to a greater or less extent, love to indulge. It 
was in this frame of mind that Auleyjeft his room, on 
the evening of his arrival at the Springs, and went out 
to take a survey of his surroundings. 

The hotel was a large and stately structure, with 
elegant accommodations. At this hour, its corridors and 
verandas were crowded with guests. The young and 
old were promenading to and fro through the capacious 
hallways and the grandly lighted and richly furnished 
parlors which opened upon them. 

Auley moved about from one point to another, list- 
lessly observing the passing groups and couples. His 
feelings were somewhat out of joint, or not exactly in 
harmony with anything but his own wild and confused ' 
mental speculations. He probably needed rest, but his 
brain was too active to be checked. Recognizing no 
familiar face in the upper halls and parlors, he went down- 


126 


BROUGHT FACE TO FACE. 


stairs and finally strolled into the open air. Children 
were at play and he caught the inspiration of the mo- 
ment as he heard the merry voices of the youngsters 
singing out upon the evening air. He enjoyed their 
frolic and the scene about him. Elegant pagodas were 
lighted up, and the lamps hanging around the enclosure 
threw their brilliant rays over nature and art comming- 
ling in their beauty and harmony. 

“ It is, indeed, quite gay here,” thought Edmon ; “ my 
talkative acquaintance did not magnify the pretensions 
of this place in the least ; ” and, for some time, he con- 
tinued to watch the varied amusements and means of 
enjoyment provided in all directions. A sense of relief 
would ever and anon steal over him, which was immedi- 
ately checked by the thought that, of all places on earth, 
this was the last for him to fly to as a refuge from the 
haunting trouble which had set him adrift. 

Finally, tiring of his perambulations around the various 
walks and of viewing the scenery under the glare of 
lamp-light, Edmon returned to the main hall and entered 
one of the side-rooms branching off from it. This 
was brilliantly illuminated. On the centre- table were 
some books and other literature. Here he paused awhile 
beneath the chandelier and casually examined the vol- 
umes and periodicals, more for the purpose of passing the 
time than because he felt any interest in them. Persons 
were constantly passing in and out, and he did not 
observe a lady and gentleman enter and seat themselves 
near where he stood, his face being turned in an opposite 
direction. But his ear soon caught the sound of familiar 
voices. 


BROUGHT FACE TO FACE. 


127 


“ When I saw the Captain leave you for his game of 
billiards, I thought you would be interested in some 
news, good, bad or indifferent.” 

“ One is always interested more or less by anything 
new here; but go on.” 

“ There is a new arrival at the Springs, who, I think, 
is known to you,” continued the first speaker. 

“ Pray, Mr. Arden, don’t make pauses, but tell me, at 
once, who this new arrival is. ” 

“ He registers as Edmon Auley.” 

Mrs. Burdotte appeared momentarily flurried by this 
information ; but her slight agitation soon passed, as, in 
a nonchalant manner, she remarked : 

“ Indeed ! Such news is neither indifferent nor bad.” 

“Then you take it not as a dry luncheon to one 
without an appetite?’ 

“ I assure you that I have a greater relish for this item 
from the fact that we have a slight acquaintance, if I 
may say so ; and it is pleasanter to meet those we know 
than strangers away from home. I suppose Mr. Auley 
is aware that we are stopping here for the present ? ” 

“ I took the liberty of informing him as an induce- 
ment for him to stop here also.” 

“ And you were presumptuous enough to think that 
would be an inducement ? ” 

“I traveled with him some distance without a word 
passing between us. He seemed to be suffering, and 
my sympathies were aroused in his behalf. Catching his 
eye, at last, I asked him if he was on his way to this 
place. He did not have any settled intention of stopping 
over long.” 


128 


BROUGHT FACE TO FACE. 


“ He did not I ” Mrs. Bardotte evinced some interest 
in this statement. 

“None whatever,” continued Mr. Arden; “I thought 
he spoke rather indifferently about it.” 

“ Then you told him that we were here ? ” 

“ That fact seemed to have a bracing effect for a 
moment, but he shortly fell back into his old languor and 
remained silent until I waked him out of his dreamy state 
again, and then we chatted along quite pleasantly until 
the coach drew up and we were put down here. The 
happy idea struck me that this item for its freshness, at 
least, might excuse the presumption which urged me into 
your presence at this time.” Arden laughed musically, 
as he added : “ I will go in search of him now, as I was 

looking him up when I saw the Captain desert his post.” 

It was a trying moment to Edmon. Escape was out 
of the question, unless Mrs. Burdotte changed her position 
or left the room. Any movement on his part might be- 
tray his presence. He expected to make a formal call on 
Captain Burdotte and his bride, and while he had, in a 
measure, steeled himself for a meeting with Dora, which 
under any circumstances must be somewhat embarrass- 
ing to him, and, perhaps, to her, he was not prepared for 
the precipitation of such an accident as might now result, 
and which would be rendered much more complicated by 
the conversation of which he was the subject, the tenor 
of which confused him. 

Mrs. Burdotte appeared to be in no hurry to leave the 
room ; perhaps she was waiting for Mr. Arden to find 
the object of his search, in expectation that he might be 
brought in a captive to her. What a singular plight to 


BROUGHT FACE TO FACE. 


129 


be there, within hearing, under the full blaze of light, 
conscious of all that had passed and without giving a 
sign of his presence ! Other persons, as has been said, 
were continually passing in and out. If the apartment 
would only fill up he might dive into the throng and, at 
least, be lost to view ; however, for the present he pre- 
tended to be completely absorbed in the book he held. 

What could possess her to sit there ? He could hear 
the movement of her fan and an occasional slight rustle 
of her dress, as if her attention being attracted to other 
parts of the room required slight changes of her posture. 
What a strange figure he must present, standing there 
like one almost unconscious! He must be attracting 
notice ! Mrs. Burdotte herself, sitting alone, with no one 
to engage her, could not avoid casting an inquisitive 
glance upon him. What if she had observed something 
about him reminding her of the subject of conversation a 
few moments before ? Edmon Auley was growing more 
and more uneasy ; and at last, in order to relieve himself 
of a situation that was becoming too embarrassing to be 
further maintained, he determined to boldly face his fate 
and make himself known. This resolve was no sooner 
made than he felt a sense of relief, for Mrs. Burdotte just 
at that instant arose to depart, as he supposed. He heard 
her light footfall ; but no ! she had merely approached 
the table and taken a paper to read ! She was in the act 
of returning to the seat she had vacated when, looking 
up, their eyes met ! It was an unavoidable incident ; the 
paper fell from her hand ! 

Was this only a ruse to test the truth of her suspi- 
cions ? Edmon did not have time to solve the problem. 


130 


BROUGHT FACE TO FACE. 


“ Permit me, Mrs. Burdotte,” he said, picking up the 
fallen journal and presenting it to her, while his face 
burned and glowed as if suddenly touched with flame. 

“ Edmon ! you here ! What a surprise ! ” If confused 
by the abruptness of this meeting, Mrs. Burdotte regained 
her equipose almost instantly. 

How it was that Edmon Auley found himself sitting 
by Dora’s side, as if under the spell of some enchantment, 
he could never afterwards satisfactorily explain to him- 
self. He was gazing intently into those searching eyes, 
sparkling with a lustre he had never seen in them before. 
The rich folds of lace which hung over Tier bosom were 
agitated by her animated breathing. Ho allusion was 
made by Dora to that subject too darkly mysterious to be 
touched upon by mere words ; but her eye spoke what 
her heart felt — a delicate language — not so subtile, how- 
ever, as not to be easily interpreted by feelings responsive 
to the witchery and magic of the spell which bound 
Edmon in this woman’s presence. 

There was something intoxicating, exhilarating and 
ecstatic in her words, her action and her look that made 
their influence irresistible. Fate had brought him here 
and chained him to the inevitable ; he felt that he could 
not engage in a desperate struggle where he must surely 
fail. 

Captain Burdotte finally returned from the billiard-room 
and found Edmon Auley and his wife in conversation. 
He greeted the young man with cold civility, but respect- 
fully. A few words passed between them, and as Mrs. 
Burdotte withdrew with her husband, she said : 

“ You will call on us to-morrow, will you not, Edmon ?” 


BROUGHT FACE TO FACE. 


131 


There was a soft light in her smile as she made the in- 
quiry an invitation ; but an ironical curve seemed to hang 
about the lips of her companion like a menace, which in- 
dicated dissatisfaction, as he turned away. Perhaps it was 
only a suspicion; the Captain’s brow was naturally dark 
and his countenance was not of the open kind. 

The artist appeared immediately. This singular coin- 
cidence was not noticed by Auley, whose mind was, per- 
haps, too much concentrated upon what had just hap- 
pened for him to be surprised at anything. 

“ I have found you at last,” said Arden, as he ap- 
proached. “ I first went to your room and have since 
been looking for you about the premises. I am glad you 
have met with friends here.” 

Edmon glanced at the speaker; the easy familiarity 
with which he introduced himself somewhat startled 
him. 

u There is a fascination about her that takes one by 
storm ! ” continued the artist. 

“ Of whom are you speaking ?” asked Auley, rather 
dryly. 

•“ Mrs. Burdotte, of course. In society she cannot be 
excelled; she carries herself like a queen! No such 
beauty ever clothed woman with its charms !” 

“ Can it be,” thought Edmon, “ that here is another 
victim submitting himself to the despotism of a woman’s 
smiles in the hope that yet the seal of her favors may be 
broken at some time to reward his suppliant attitude ? ” 
Then he asked aloud, closely scrutinizing Mr. Arden. 
“ You think she is beautiful, do you ?” 

“Yes; I never saw but one lady more beautiful.” 

8 


132 


BROUGHT FACE TO FACE. 


“ Of course, it would be impertinent to inquire who 
could possibly be more lovely ? ” 

“ Why — my wife ! ” 

“ Then you are married ? ” 

“ Not exactly ; but you might have imagined it and let 
me off. A man don’t like to tell every one who his sweet- 
heart is ! ” 

Arden laughed pleasantly, and Edmon looked amazed. 

“ But,” resumed the artist, “ I wished to become better 
acquainted with you, if I did not discover that I was disa- 
greeable at first sight. I hope there is sufficient interest 
here to cause you to protract your stay.” 

“ He is a singular genius,” mused Auley, when the 
artist withdrew on the plea that he had spent so much 
time in looking him up he was neglecting other engage- 
ments. 

The following day Edmon Auley paid his respects at 
the rooms of Captain Burdotte, and while Jacques’ man- 
ner was indifferent, his reception of the young man was 
not unpleasant. In reply to inquiries Edmon gave all 

the information about B at hand at his departure, 

and alluded to his meeting with the artist as an induce- 
ment for him to remain a few days at this resort. 

“ And so we are indebted to Mr. Arden for this pleas- 
ure,” said Mrs. Burdotte. 

The remark of the stranger at the village inn would 
have been applicable at this moment in describing the 
facial expression of Jacques Burdotte. Could it be pos- 
sible, Auley thought, that the Captain’s jealousy was 
aroused by this reference to the artist? Was this dark- 
ness hovering over the husband’s brow to be taken as a 


BROUGHT FACE TO FACE. 


133 


sign that a flirtation between bis wife and Arden bad been 
detected ? If, on tbe other hand, his own stoppage at the 
Springs excited the uneasy feeling in the husband because 
of any pleasure the Captain imagined it might afford his 
wife, he would quench the suspicion at the start by giv- 
ing his motive for coming. 

“ The attractions presented by the Springs themselves 
would be quite sufficient to induce a visit, after two days’ 
rough staging on the part of one unaccustomed to such 
traveling,” he said. 

“ Then you really did not have this place in view when 
you left R ? ” asked Dora. 

“ I did not.” 

“ And you heard from Mr. Arden that we were here ?” 

“ He gave me the first intimation of it. I had supposed 
you were in New York by this time.” 

A bright smile played over the countenance of the 
questioner which contrasted strongly with the deep shade 
'on the brow of her husband, who remained silent as if 
awed by the boldness of the woman he called his wife. 

“Mr. Arden is quite a genial, pleasant companion 
to meet with in the course of travel,” remarked Mrs. 
Burdotte. 

“ Entertaining, but odd.” 

“ What a notion ! Is it not rather his originality you 
mean ? ” 

“ In a manner, perhaps, you are correct.” 

Edmon experienced much surprise at the apparent 
interest shown by Mrs. Burdotte in the subject of con- 
versation, and, in spite of an effort to repress his feelings, 
was somewhat vexed at her repeated reference to Arden. 


134 


BROUGHT FACE TO FACE. 


A sarcastic smile curled about her husband’s lips, as 
he said: 

“Good! That is excellent! Odd is just the word 
with which to characterize his originality.” 

“Genius always appears odd,” incidentally added his 
wife. 

“ Perhaps his genius did not break through the crust 
of his oddity in Mr. Auley’s presence,” said Jacques, 
with greater pungency in his sarcasm ; “ he wanders about 
here like a crank ; it must be his impertinent curiosity 
which gives force to his originality.” 

“ Oh ! I don’t suppose his originality affords either 
amusement or interest at cards, bowling or billiards ; but 
in conversation, you must admit, Mr. Arden is a blue 
killer and a cloud disperser.” 

The wife’s thrust was piquant, but not severe. Jac- 
ques felt it and winced a little under the stroke, as was 
shown in his reply : 

“In a preference for that which is of interest only to 
the opposite sex, perhaps there is some originality I had 
overlooked. And yet it would not be inconsistent to 
characterize an exclusive disposition in this respect as 
rather odd.” 

These words were incisive ; they had a deep signifi- 
cance not then comprehended by Edmon, who had risen 
to take his leave. He caught the appealing eye of Mrs. 
Burdotte, and, in an embarrassed manner, remarked : 

“ It is an inherent trait of man’s nature to admire the 
opposite sex, and the ladies cannot be expected, how- 
ever much their inclinations may be misunderstood, 
to shut themselves out from the world to escape the 


BROUGHT FACE TO FACE. 


135 


homage man is always obtrusively thrusting in their 
way ! ” 

A look of triumph and a grateful glance from Dora 
followed Edmon Auley as he departed. 

He confessed, as he withdrew from the presence of Jac- 
ques Burdotte’s wife, that he had never entertained the 
faintest suspicion of the extent of her enigmatical and 
bewildering influence. Her magnetism was irresistible. 
Her inquisitiveness had entrapped him more than once 
during the interview just over, and he had almost 
obnoxiously, at his withdrawal^ rebuked her husband, 
smarting under the infliction of her keen thrusts. These 
thoughts perplexed and annoyed him. W as Mrs. Bur- 
dotte only intriguing? Evidently she did not find 
amusement in her flirtations hinted at by her jealous 
companion. Was there a design in her acting? The 
idea that he might be merely a means to aid her in 
furthering her preference for the artist was neither a 
very complimentary nor consoling reflection. He felt 
too much interest to be willing to drop the subject at 
this point, and his disposition to venture on was addi- 
tionally stimulated by the novelty of the situation. 

There was one thing, however, clearly made out to 
his understanding. She did not even respect the feelings 
of the man who, under the forms of the law, was called 
her husband ; and, so far as he could judge, if Burdotte 
ever entertained a sacred regard for her, his passion had 
been so cooled that it had turned to bitterness ; and 
words of love, if he had ever spoken them, had unques- 
tionably been transformed on his lips to imprecations of 
hatred. 


136 


coOTou^pm 


CHAPTER XIH. 

CONFOUNDED. 

E DMON AULEY had posted a letter to Mr. Skaggs, 
informing him that his request would be complied 
with. He would remain at the Springs several days, and 
in the meantime would be pleased to render him any 
service he could. Edmon was too well acquainted with 
the business character of the lawyer to doubt the impor- 
tance of his request. Mr. Skaggs had been the legal ad- 
viser of his parents — of his father who had died first, and 
then of his mother — and now directed the management 
of his own property in the charge of his guardian-at-law. 
It was the unexpected character of the request that made 
it so remarkable to the young man’s mind, coming, as it 
had, connected with a chain of circumstances which had 
wrought upon his feelings so intensely as to awaken re- 
flections of an absorbing nature and of the keenest interest. 

He now remembered certain things in regard to Dun- 
ny-Deaf. These facts seemed important and trifling in 
their nature, but they were magnified into considerable 
proportions and importance by the note of Mr. Skaggs. 
Edmon was forced to believe that, had he started on his 
journey without this boy, there would have been no 
occasion for the lawyer to have intercepted him at this 
resort. In addition to this, the appearance of the strarn 
ger at the village inn was significant, as having some 


CONFOUNDED. 


137 


relation to this matter, and it could only be explained as 
referring to Dunny-Deaf as a silent witness of the occur- 
rences at Bailey Mullins’ the night of the murder. In a 
short time the stranger of the inn would, in all probability, 
make his appearance at the Springs. He could only wait 
patiently for the final denouement. 

Mr. Skaggs must write in a few days, and probably the 
information he would receive from that gentleman would 
aid, at least, in dispelling a pait of the mystery by shed- 
ding some light on his relation to it, if he sustained any 
such relation. In the meantime he could find much to 
occupy him in studying the situation of other parties to 
the one absorbing subject on his mind, to which all minor 
occurrences seemed to gravitate, or with which they 
appeared to be in some way inseparably and incompre- 
hensibly connected. 

The tone as well as the character of the criticism be- 
stowed by Captain Jacques Burdotteupon Mr. Arden, the 
supposed artist, had made a deep impression on Edmon’s 
mind and caused his new acquaintance to become an ob- 
ject of greater interest to him, especially since Mrs. Bur- 
dotte was not so unfavorably impressed by the gentleman’s 
pretensions as her husband appeared to be. 

Captain Burdotte had not so much disparaged Arden’s 
genius as expressed a general doubt of him. What could 
he have meant by charging “ impertinent curiosity ” to 
his account ? This charge was not without its force with 
Auley, who called to mind the inquisitive manner of the 
artist in the stage coach. 

- Notwithstanding the unfavorable opinion that Burdotte 
entertained of Arden, Edrnon was no little surprised upon 


138 


CONFOUNDED. 


further observation to find that the two were on amica- 
ble terms. He met them several times walking in com- 
pany about the grounds, and had noticed them twice play- 
ing billiards together. Their conversation on every occa- 
sion seemed to be of a pleasant nature. It was evident 
that the Captain’s criticism was only indulged in to pique 
his wife. 

During the afternoon, on the first day after Edmon’s 
arrival at the Springs, Arden called at the young man’s 
room and expressed himself pleased to find him alone. 

“ Perhaps,” he remarked, by way of excuse for his 
visit, “ you are fond of society and have but few acquain- 
tances here.” 

“ I have none but Captain Burdotte and his wife, besides 
yourself. I do not avoid society, but really feel it unde- 
sirable to make acquaintances at this time, except inci- 
dentally.” 

“Well, my own acquaintance here is limited to the 
incidental kind. I rather prefer some degree of isolation, 
but occasionally I thrust myself into society much to my 
own annoyance and greatly against my will. At such 
places as this it is a very easy matter to get on the famil- 
iar side of people ; one feels at home and is expected to 
make himself so, you know.” 

There was a freedom of manner about his visitor that 
made Edmon feel at ease with him at once, and he 
resolved to question him in regard to the subject upper- 
most in his mind. 

“ I was wondering to-day,” he said, “ at your intimate 
acquaintance with Captain Burdotte and his wife.” 

Arden smiled. 


CONFOUNDED. 


139 


“ I will explain/’ he said. “ On the day of their arrival 
here I came also. I had traveled in the coach part of 
the way with them. Gentlemen traveling together 
easily understand each other. I found Burdotte’s young 
bride to be quite a lively conversationalist, while he was 
apparently dull company for her. In that way we 
struck up a partial friendship, which has been slightly 
improved upon since. There was a fact connected with 
our acquaintance, however, I had nearly overlooked. 
A person who has recently settled in your town was 
better known to me than to Mrs. Burdotte— Mrs. Sealey 
• — and when the former learned from my inquiries that I 
knew the lady, the circumstances led to a number of 
questions and explanations.” 

“ You are, then, acquainted with Mrs. Sealey ? ” 

This was another singular incident to be added to the 
number already accumulated, and Edmon showed some 
surprise in asking his question. 

“ I think I am.” This answer was accompanied by a 
peculiar expression ; but the speaker continued, chang- 
ing the conversation : “ Captain Burdotte is a mysterious 
man. What do you think could have induced that 
fascinating creature he calls his wife to marry him ? ” 

“ What induced him to marry her ? What induces 
any one to marry ? ” 

“ If you mean for me to infer that the ordinary cause 
of marriage led her under the joke with Captain Bur- 
dotte, it won’t do ; the motive which induces so many to 
seek the altar of matrimony had no influence with her. 
There was a different motive — a deep one — perhaps, a 
dark one ! ” 


140 


CONFOUNDED. 


“You startle me r Mr. Arden! What can you 
mean ? ” 

“ I mean that Mrs. Burdotte was not prompted in her 
marriage by love.” 

“You evidently meant to convey by your remarks 
something more than a mere absence of affection in this 
match.” 

“ I confess it ; some moving cause, some motive other 
than love forcing their union.” 

“ Position, honor or property, you think,” interrupted 
Edmon. 

“Not position and certainly not honor. Perhaps 
money or property might have been a moving cause ; 
but, even granting such to have been the case, I must 
believe that there was some peculiar circumstance — an 
element of force, so to speak — that welded her chain, for 
I know she is bound by a link not regarded by her in the 
light of a golden ornament ! ” 

“ It seems to me,”'said Edmon, rather in an expostula- 
tory manner, “that your speculation does the lady injus- 
tice, inasmuch as it is akin to a suspicion not honorable 
to her.” 

“ Well, you have, perhaps, a right to consider me 
impertinent in this matter ; but have you any intimacy 
with the man ? ” 

“ None at all.” 

“ I profess to have ; and if he is not a scoundrel, nature 
never made one ! I want you to become better acquainted 
with him that you may learn that I do not slander him.” 

“ But suppose he should be a scoundrel, would that 
fact implicate his wife in his misdeeds? ” 


CONFOUNDED. 


141 


“ Not necessarily ; but could she have married him in 
ignorance of the fact ? ” 

“ Would there be anything inconsistent in the affirma- 
tive of your question ? ” 

“Everything that can be imagined. Her intuitive 
knowledge of character, her mastery of those principles 
which teach insight into human nature and her strong 
intellectual gifts are all against it.” 

“ You seem to have studied her traits closely,” said 
Edmon, now somewhat annoyed by what he began to 
regard as an infliction, whether intended as such or not. 

“Yes; it has been my business in life, to some extent, 
either from necessity or inclination, to study people ; and 
I cannot get rid of the idea that Mrs. Burdotte is privy to 
her husband’s secret ? ” 

“ Her husband’s secret ? What secret ? ” 

Auley bent forward and almost breathlessly awaited 
the answer. 

“ Did I say secret ? I should have said character ; it 
was that we were speaking of.” 

Edmon was perplexed more than ever by this reply, 
and said, sharply : 

“You are enigmatical, Mr. Arden. I confess that I 
understand neither your interest in this matter nor your 
disposition to discuss suspicions disparaging to the lady 
and her husband. To be plain, why is this ? ” 

“ Because I have observed a mystery about the parties, 
and, as curiosity is one of the prevailing defects of my 
nature, I feel some interest in getting to the bottom of it. 
Your acquaintance with them might aid me. With 
what light I have before me, I pronounce Captain 


142 


CONFOUNDED. 


Jacques Burdotte jealous of his wife. Why? I do not 
fully know, though I do know she is ruthlessly applying 
the spur to his desperation. Hold yourself in readiness 
for the proof j ere long I will furnish it I ” 

When Arden withdrew, Edmon began to wonder if he 
had not been in the presence of a madman. Burdotte 
had called the artist a crank. Was he not correct? 
Everything appeared to indicate that he was. Arden’s 
bold, if not impertinent insinuations in regard to Dora 
made to him, almost a perfect stranger, were, to say the 
least of them, remarkable. The intimations of the singu- 
lar genius who had just left him were inexplicable, ex- 
cept upon the hypothesis either of his being a crank, or 
that he was very familiar with the lives and history of 
the parties about whom he had conversed with such free- 
dom. However, upon further reflection, what Arden had 
said was not much out of harmony with his own 
thoughts, save that thus far he had not indulged in even 
the slightest suspicion, but to banish it at once, of Dora’s 
connection with any wrong transaction on the part of her 
husband, supposing that he had been guilty of any such 
transaction. But Arden’s suggestion on this one point 
was plausible, though Edmon did not like to entertain it. 
The young man’s ideas flitted about this suspicion of her 
guilty knowledge with a sentimental doubt. 

Arden had evidently premeditated this interview. 
What object was concealed beneath his communicative- 
ness? Auley could not resist the conclusion that the 
artist felt a strong suspicion of something dark behind the 
marriage of Captain Burdotte and Dora Banks, of which 
Dora had at least a guilty knowledge. But what aroused 


COUNFOUNDED. 


143 


this suspicion, and why was Arden so manifestly con- 
cerned about it ? What interest could he possibly have 
in agitating the subject? Whatever might have been 
the object of Arden’s visit, it was evidently inspired by a 
motive other than mere social freedom. 

Another odd circumstance had cropped out in the 
course of this interview — Gustave Arden was acquainted 
with Mrs. Sealey. Edmon had intended to make further 
inquiries concerning that lady, but the reference to her 
was slight and had been adroitly passed by his visitor. 
There was something like a dodge in the way the artist 
had changed the conversation so as to excite his interest 
in another direction. 

Altogether, Arden’s visit had only added mystery to 
mystery and left Edmon in a deeper state of confused 
conjecture than before. 


144 


AN ANGEL OF LIGHT. 


CHAPTER XIY. 


AN ANGEL OF LIGHT. 


“ When pain and anguish wring the brow, 

A ministering^ angel thou .” — Sir Walter Scott. 

VEIL of sadness hung over the family of Mr. 



iv Straight that night, though unexpected hope had 
come. The doctor retired late. A second examination 
of Gracie had convinced him that life was not extinct. 
Ultimately her respiration was resumed and there was a 
slowly returning pulse. Grade’s mother was finally per- 
suaded to take needful rest, leaving Mrs. Sealey and 
Flora by the bedside. Explicit directions had been given 
by the physician to be followed by the watchers. 

As morning approached Gracie opened her eyes. The 
cooling air through the windows had a reviving effect. 
The lethargy which had bound her, in her exhausted and 
weak condition, was yielding. The sick girl glanced 
around, as if conscious of something unusual about the 
room and in her situation. Mrs. Sealey smoothed the 
pillow and, to anticipate any effort on the part of the 
patient, remarked as she did so : 

“ You have been very ill, but are better now.” Gracie 
smiled faintly as her eyelids opened wider. 

“ I have something quite nice to tell you about Mr. 
Eldon,” continued Mrs. Sealey, “ when you are able to 
hear it; but, at present, I can only give you this inti- 
mation.” 


AN ANGEL OF LIGHT. 


145 


“I have been dreaming/’ said Gracie, with increased 
energy in her look. “ I thought he was here, and told 
me of his innocence and that he would have returned 
sooner, but it was necessary for him to remain away and 
keep secreted, as his presence here might aid the escape 
of uncle’s murderer. I thought he said our present con- 
dition was all a delusion, that we were really well off 
and that father was no bankrupt — that it was only a 
semblance somehow or other. So strange was his state- 
ment that I can’t untwist its mysterious threads. My 
dream seems very disconnected now, although it did not 
appear so while I was asleep. But I remember being 
back in the mansion. Do you believe in dreams, Mrs. 
Sealey ? ” 

“ It was a strange fancy,” interposed Flora, before the 
lady questioned could reply. 

u It appears that your dream is quite a strong argument 
in favor of the idea that such visions are not always false.” 

“ Why, Frank could not have been here ! ” exclaimed 
Gracie, with considerable animation. 

The moment was opportune for the purpose of Mrs. 
Sealey, and she took advantage of it. 

“No,” she said, “that part of your dream is not exactly 
the case ; but what you supposed Mr. Eldon to commu- 
nicate about his absence and the reasons for his silence is 
true. If he were here he would tell you just what you 
imagined in your sleep, and also what he will disclose to 
you on his return which will occur not many days hence, 
I trust.” 

Flora gazed at the speaker in mute astonishment at 
this statement. At last, with an effort, she asked : 


146 


AN ANGEL OF LIGHT. 


“ You do not mean to say that our condition is a mere 
semblance and not real ? ” 

“ To all intents and purposes it is simply a semblance. 
Dreams usually present subjects or objects figuratively or 
poetically, because like all other mere fancies they are 
the offspring of imagination, and, yet, as in this case, 
they very often contain the elements of truth or reality.” 

“ It is wonderful that the tropes of fancy mirrored 
from the mind are so real, then, since sister had no 
knowledge of the facts.” 

“ Oh ! no,” said Mrs. Sealey. “ When we consider the 
causes of such phenomena, there is not that wonder 
about them with which the superstitious mind usually 
clothes such results. The wonder in such things is 
always created by our inability to explain them. Gracie’s 
thoughts have been intensely exercised and concen- 
trated on this one subject. It has been a day and night 
dream with her. 

“ Day after day she has been disappointed by this one 
promise of her hope, held out by a vivid imagination and 
strengthened by an abiding confidence in Frank’s honor 
and innocence. Though made up in her fancy by parts, 
or as a whole, yet the picture of his return and the very 
natural circumstances of his absence went with her in her 
sleep to be reflected from her memory, more active in its 
flights from her bodily lethargy, in a dream. Gracie, 
however, has derived a benefit from her dream, and a grea- 
ter one is in store for her from its realization. It is well 
that in her physical condition her mind looked upon the 
brighter side of the picture turned toward her as a refuge 
of faith, for had the darker foreboding of the dread hor- 


AN ANGEL OF LIGHT. 


147 


ror to be revealed taken shape and presented its form of 
despair, like a dreadful nightmare extinguishing every hope 
in her bosom, in all likelihood she would have succumbed, 
and those eyes would have been closed to us forever. 
But still we may, in the ordinary sense, regard Grade’s 
dream as one of those singular coincidences of fancy and 
fact, but few of which occur in life.” 

Gracie attempted to lift herself up in the bed, but the 
quick eye of Mrs. Sealey detected the movement in time 
to prevent any extra exertion by placing her hand gently 
upon the shoulder of the patient and lightly pressing her 
back ; then the pillows were arranged so as to elevate 
the position of the invalid, and, with a word of caution, 
Mrs. Sealey added, addressing Gracie : 

“ I will tell you more about Frank when you are stron- 
ger, and Flora can talk the whole matter oyer with you 
afterwards. He is well and very anxious to see you, 
but is prevented from doing so by his secret engagements 
in ferreting out the murderer of your uncle.” 

Flora could hardly realize that she herself was not 
weaving a web in dreamland. 

“ This is all strange news to you, young ladies, coming 
from me,” said Mrs. Sealey. w I have been acquainted 
with Mr. Eldon’s movements ever since about a week 

after he left R . You will understand it all after 

awhile. Only keep the secret, and I shall not regret 
having disclosed it to you.” 

After administering a few drops of medicine to Gracie 
and admonishing her to remain quiet, Mrs. Sealey led 
Flora to the opposite side of the room where they could 
watch and yet would not disturb their patient; then, 
9 


148 


AN ANGEL OF LIGHT. 


seating herself on the lounge near the window, she 
continued : 

“ I have told your sister this news because I consider it 
better for her than any medicine the doctor can prescribe. 
When I came here yesterday afternoon, and saw her in 
that death-like condition, I felt terribly about it. I knew 
the cause of her ailment. With some slight knowledge 
of her relation to Frank — as you have taught me famil- 
iarly to call him in your presence — I have observed her 
several times closely during my visits here ; and it was 
plain to me that a secret grief, the effect of which she 
tried very hard to hide from others, was telling upon her 
delicate constitution. I was troubled at holding back 
information I possessed when I knew it would be such a 
relief and might be safely entrusted to her ; but it is a pecu- 
liar idiosyncrasy of our class to keep our business or what 
relates to our calling to ourselves. Our law even forbids 
communication to those most intimately connected with 
what we undertake for them, unless it is absolutely essen- 
tial to our schemes; and then we only divulge what is 
necessary, clothing everything else with mystery. 

“ My business here has so attached me to you all that I 
experienced the happiest emotions when I realized the 
fact that I was aiding those who merited a different fate 
than that which had befallen them by no fault of theirs ; 
and the mask which cloaked my action, as duty seemed 
to require, was more than once on the point of being put 
aside by me to indulge in my higher, more natural sym- 
pathies for you and Grracie, who have become more than 
ordinarily endeared to me during our brief association 
since my arrival in E — . You cannot now, but will here- 


AN ANGEL OF LIGHT. 


149 


after understand my feelings yesterday when I first saw 
your sister in that deathlike state ; and if I had not seen 
signs of life as soon as I did, while engaged in bathing and 
chafing her arms and temples, I verily believe I should 
have fainted, and there would have been two patients here 
instead of one needing your care and watchfulness, if 
your sister had recovered. My head, at times, was so 
dizzy that I could not see, and the effect of the shock I 
experienced has not yet passed off; but I thank our kind 
Benefactor that all danger is over now and our dear girl 
will get well at once. W e alone, for the present, will know 
the true cause of her rapid recovery.” 

Mrs. Sealey gave Flora some cordial, taking some her- 
self, and the two, satisfied by the regular respiration of 
Gracie that she was resting well, lay down and ere day 
began to dawn fell into a brief sleep. The sun was shin- 
ing through the curtains, and Mrs. Straight sat silently 
by the bedside of her daughter watching her quiet rest, 
when Mrs. Sealey, who had observed her enter the room, 
approached. 

“ She appears much better now,” said the mother, look- 
ing up hopefully. 

u The disease exhausted itself last night, and is broken ; 
strength to recuperate is all that is now essential ; further 
anxiety can be put aside,” replied Mrs. Sealey, who felt 
that a word of cheer would be, at this moment, like riches 
laid at a poor man’s feet. 

That morning Mrs. Sealey breakfasted with Mrs. 
Straight, and Flora prepared the toast and tea for Gracie. 

The atmosphere was somewhat bracing and it was a day 
of bright sunshine. Flora remained at the bedside of her 


150 


AN ANGEL OF LIGHT. 


sister all day. The shade of gloom and deep anxiety she 
had worn the night previous gradually faded and was 
entirely dispelled before the evening sunset by the evi- 
dence of Gracie’s improvement. 

An hour or more of the morning had been spent with 
the Straights by Mrs. Sealey, and that lady returned in 
the afternoon, this time referring to the subject intro- 
duced by Gracie’s dream the evening before just sufficiently 
to make permanent the impression of Frank Eldon’s 
safety and the assurance of his present ability to meet all 
suspicion aroused against him as the chief actor in the 
Bailey Mullins tragedy, and to strengthen the hope of 
his speedy return among his friends. On taking leave 
of Grade, she remarked : 

“ It is not of moment, my dear, to remove suspicions 
from our Frank ; it is important, however, not only to 
bring the murderer of your uncle to punishment, but also 
to recover the large amount of stolen money carried off 
by the assassin, which is now the property of your 
mother. This work requires Frank’s absence at this time.” 

Before the day closed Flora was impatient to talk the 
whole subject over with her sister. The imformation 
imparted by Mrs. Sealey was remarkable enough to 
create the greatest wonder in her mind; but, notwith- 
standing, the most intense astonishment was excited by 
that lady’s allusions to her own relation to the facts 
spoken of in the news she gave, there was a deep, 
mysterious meaning involved which she felt the need of 
Gracie’s assistance to aid her in unraveling. A day or 
two, however, must elapse before she would dare to tax 
the latter with a reference to this perplexing problem. 


AN ANGEL OF LIGHT. 


151 


The kindness of Mrs. Sealey amounting to real affection 
warmed Flora’s heart toward her, and her feelings dwelt 
strongly on this fact, as it were, while her thoughts were 
busy with another — that allusion the lady had made to 
the peculiar characteristics of the class to which she 
belonged. Was she, after all, a lady of position, or did 
she belong to a lower circle ? Her refinement, her ten- 
derness, her social demeanor and equipoise indicated 
something more than employment in a service that 
required only skill and cunning, and dealt with the 
coarsest elements of human society and the worst passions 
of human nature. 

At last Grade once more sat up and the bloom was 
coming back to her cheeks. Flora was one day reading 
to her when Mr. Lent stepped in to inquire after the 
invalid’s health. His wife was kept at home by a cir- 
cumstance which will reveal itself in due time, but had 
sent her husband each day after she heard of Grade’s ill- 
ness to ask about her. 

He had no sooner withdrawn than Gracie remarked ; 

“ That was a singular coincidence — my dream and 
Mrs. Sealey’s statement at the very moment I awoke. I 
have been thinking about it and about her.” 

Flora looked hastily up at this allusion to a subject 
which had engrossed her own thoughts ever since that 
night. 

“What is most curious in regard to it” said she, “is 
that we have been so intimate with Mrs. Sealey from the 
first, and yet not one hint did she ever drop before 
concerning the matter, although she knew all about it.” 

“ It is all very strange,” said Gracie. “ I can hardly 


152 


AN ANGEL OF LIGHT. 


realize its truth. When I awoke this morning, and the 
subject recurred to my mind, it was some time before I 
could convince myself that I really had not been wander- 
ing amid the mazes of dreamland again. It is perfectly 
inexplicable how our friend could be so well-informed 
and we so ignorant in regard to matters that so little con- 
cern her and so much concern ns.” 

“ I almost feel like breaking her injunction of secrecy, 
and telling mother all about it,” said Flora, impulsively. 

“ That would never do ; it would be a betrayal of con- 
fidence. Mother may know, and might be surprised to 
find that the information had been imparted to us.” 

Flora wondered that her sister could entertain such an 
idea. Even if she had not felt convinced, for other 
reasons, that her mother did not know the facts related 
to them by Mrs. Sealey, she would not have believed that 
Mrs. Straight could have kept her knowledge, if she had 
possessed such, from Gracie. 

“ No ! ” she exclaimed, “ I am convinced mother is 
entirely ignorant of all that has been revealed to us ; and 
it seems heartless to deprive her of information that 
would be a relief in the prospect it holds out. Dear 
mother ! you must have noticed how careworn she looks 
of late. How oppressive her anxiety and disappoint- 
ments have become ! It is not for herself she cares, but 
for us. She sees our advantages all swept away, our 
pretty home gone and the family reduced from affluence 
to poverty, with no hope for the future. I have seen her 
weeping several times recently.” 

“We cannot offer her the relief of our secret, but we 
can show her that we are happy,” said Gracie. 


AN ANGEL OF LIGHT. 


153 


“We can do more,” interposed Flora, as her counte- 
nance brightened at the new idea suggested ; “ we can 
get Mrs. Sealey to make mother her confidante also ; 
I know she will when I tell her my reason for it, she 
was so good, so loving and so tender to you. Oh! 
Grade, you do not know how she wept, how anxious she 
was, when she saw you lying in that comatose state — so 
akin to death as to make us all believe you had really 
left us. If you had been her own daughter she could 
not have shown more tender solicitude for you. I have 
loved her ever since — and to think she is not a lady of 
delicate refinement, that most of her ways are merely 
artificial — a cunning cloak to deceive — though she is 
undoubtedly sincere in her sympathy for us ! ” 

“ Why, Flora, how you talk ! Is it possible that you 
really think a lady like Mrs. Sealey, who shows her nat- 
ural goodness of heart on every occasion, whose conver- 
sation is so agreeable and whose demeanor is in all 
respects so dignified, is without refinement ? What can 
you mean, Flora ? ” 

“I have been sorely troubled concerning the matter 
ever since she told me about it. It happened on the 
night we sat in this room together, watching you. She 
said it was a law of the service to which she belonged to 
divulge nothing of affairs being worked up by it, unless 
necessary, even to those most interested, and that it was 
in obedience to this law she had been acting in keeping 
from our knowledge the secret she possessed about Frank. 
She also spoke of the mask which cloaked her actions 
and hid from us the truth.” 

“If she meant you to understand that she is an 


154 


AN ANGEL OF LIGHT. 


attache of some secret detective service, she is certainly 
a very accomplished and noble member, and so far as 
her influence can be exerted she undoubtedly would 
elevate such a service.” 

“ But when the work is completed here she will leave 
us,” said Flora, gloomily. 

“ Oh! I see! Mrs. Sealey has worked up her job too 
well by stealing my sister’s affections! It will be no 
less a sad parting to me than to you, for I also love her. 
How could we help it ? She is not the cunning masker 
her words intimate, but a lovable, true woman. Let us 
believe this until she herself dispels the cherished illu- 
sion. I shall ever keep alive in my memory that she 
came into our midst, at a time of great misfortune and 
trouble, like an angel of light, to brighten and smooth 
our way before us. Surely she has been a vast comfort 
to us. I hope and try to believe that she may, in some 
mysterious manner, be made nearer to us than we think 
by the ties of a natural affection.” 

“ How charming the suggestion ! But no, it cannot be. 
We would be too happy if she should prove to be one of 
Frank’s relatives. Her own words forbid the thought, 
and we ought not to encourage a hope that may turn out 
a bitter disappointment in the end.” 

Whatever might be Mrs. Sealey’s station in society, 
Gracie had aided in lifting a weight from Flora’s mind. 
She could believe her to be a true, noble and good woman, 
whose calling in life, no matter what it might prove, 
could not make her less esteemed by detracting from her 
purity or honor. 

A brief pause ensued, after which Flora again remarked : 


AN ANGEL OF LIGHT. 


155 


u Gracie, I have been thinking how ungratefully we 
have treated our good, kind old uncle’s memory .” 

“ I have thought about that also, Flora — not, however, 
that we have been ungrateful to his memory. Our 
misfortunes have been so distracting that what might 
otherwise have been attributed to neglect with us was 
a necessity.” 

“ I will go out to the cemetery, and see what can be 
done for uncle’s grave.” 

“ Perhaps I will be able, in a few days, to go with you.” 

“ I intend to have the mound and lot sodded, and shall 
order head and footstones for the grave.” 

“ First, you will consult mother.” 

“ Of course. I want something to mark the grave and 
adorn the lot. Besides the dates of birth and death, I 
will have an 1 In Memoriam ’ inscribed on the headstone ; 
nothing poetical, but something to accord with uncle’s 
life and death — a line or two will do.” 

“A plain statement, like this: 1 A Christian, with 
enmity to none ’.” 

“Yes; that might do as far as it goes, but we must 
have another line about his death equally as modest,” 
said Flora. 

While the sisters were conversing in regard to Mr. 
Mullins’ grave, their mother entered the room, and Flora 
immediately laid her project before her. 

“ My dear daughter,” said she, “ we will do all this after 
awhile ; but, just now, I do not think your father could 
meet the expense, and, perhaps, it would excite unneces- 
sary and unpleasant comment.” 

u I do not propose this plan as an expense to you or 


156 


AN ANGEL OF LIGHT. 


father. It is my own project, the cost of which I will 
pay. Now, what do you say, mother ? 77 

“ I have fifty dollars which I will contribute, mother , 77 
added Gracie. 

“ Yery well , 77 said Flora, “I will accept your contribu- 
tion ; my hundred and your fifty will more than pay for 
the gravestones.” 

The mother looked feelingly at her children. She 
knew their contributions were presents from their uncle 
before his death. 

“ Now, sister, you are a joint co-operator with me in 
this 1 In Memoriam 7 enterprise, but I will proceed with- 
out delay to have the lot attended to and other work 
done. Unless mother objects, I intend to order the slabs 
at once. Uncle’s grave has remained in a neglected con- 
dition long enough.” 

Mr. Straight, when informed of Flora’s design, inter- 
posed no objection, but rather encouraged it, and very much 
surprised his wife by adding that he would contribute the 
granite curbs for the lot, and make up any deficiency to 
enable his daughters to complete their undertaking in a 
style to suit their own judgment and taste. 

The headstone at the grave of Bailey Mullins was des- 
tined to give rise to a singular incident in due time. 


ON THE VERGE. 


157 


CHAPTER XY. 

ON THE VERGE. 

“A lady so richly clad as she, 

Beau tiful exceed i ngly .” — Coleridge. 

O N the morning after his conversation with Gustave 
Arden, Edmon Auley, with Dunny-Deaf, took a 
stroll among the surroundings of the Springs. The 
scenery was inspiring and beautiful. The mute seemed 
delighted as he chased the agile squirrel to its retreat 
amid the foliage of the giant tree, or pursued each fleet- 
ing object which crossed his path. 

While Auley enjoyed the natural display in the neigh- 
borhood of the Springs, it was with special interest he 
observed the effect upon Dunny-Deaf, whom he now 
began to regard more in the light of a traveling com- 
panion than as a mere menial to attend him. He was 
glad to notice the evidence of the boy’s natural exuber- 
ance of feeling called forth by the attractive in nature. 
An attachment for the deaf mute was being awakened 
in him and he was mentally perfecting a scheme for the 
benefit of this child of misfortune. 

On their way back, Auley and his companion entered 
one of the walks leading to the promenade grounds of 
the Springs; there they met Captain Jacques Burdotte 
and his wife, also returning from a morning stroll. 

“ She keeps up appearances well,” thought Edmon. 

“I declare!” exclaimed Mrs. Burdotte, “if that isn’t 


158 


ON THE VERGE. 


Dunny-Deaf Chapel! How did he come here?” The 
color of the questioner came and went, and she spoke 
nervously. 

“I encumbered myself with him,” replied Auley. “I 
wished a traveling companion, and his mother agreed 
that I should take him along with me.” 

“ How odd ! ” said Dora. 

“I made the selection on account of his deprivation 
of speech,” said Edmon, laughing. 

Captain Jacques strove to move on with his wife, but 
Dora held him back, while Dunny-Deaf stood intently 
gazing at Burdotte and exchanging glances with Auley, 
who was both amused at and interested in the scene. It 
was very certain that the Captain did not enjoy the 
inquisitive familiarity of the boy, and Edmon offered 
an apology for him. 

“ Dunny-Deaf,” he said, “has been no little spoiled 
since he left home. Strangers take a great deal of notice 
of him, and he now expects all new acquaintances to pat 
him on the cheeks, and ask him questions he can neither 
hear nor answer.” 

Burdotte made an ineffectual effort to fix his eyes 
upon the boy, as he remarked : 

“To toy with such unfortunates is an amusement I 
have no liking for.” 

“ But it is pleasant to contribute something to their 
happiness. I doubt not Mr. Auley had that idea in view 
when he consented to encumber himself with this mute,” 
said his wife. 

Edmon could not admit that he had been so charitably 
inclined in his promptings at the start; but he had learned 


ON THE VERGE. 


159 


since lie left R to sympathize with Dunny-Deaf and 

was now laboring to contribute all he could to the boy’s 
happiness. It gave variety to his own enjoyment. 

Mrs. Burdotte was evidentally lingering to assure her- 
self of the real motive of Dunny’s visit to this resort. 
She seemed to be satisfied that his presence was accidental. 

Captain Jacques was uneasy, as his manner showed. 
.His thoughts unquestionably reverted to the scene in the 
town of R where he, for the first time, became con- 

scious of the existence of this silent witness. He almost 
pressed his wife forward a little in advance of Edmon and 
the mute ; then, the boy who had not for an instant relaxed 
his fixed stare, raised his right hand and pointed his forefin- 
ger directly at the Captain. Immediately the scene at the 
village inn, in which the inquisitive and familiar stranger 
was an actor, flashed into Auley’s mind. 

There was another observer of these incidents. Gustave 
Arden sat on a rustic bench, beneath a shade tree near by, 
with a book in his hand. As the Captain and his wife 
walked leisurely up the path, he rose; passing Edmon, 
he cast a furtive glance into his face and said : 

“ The silent witness again ! ” 

“ Silent witness of what? ” thought Auley. But what 
had Arden to do with the matter ? No doubt he had wit 
nessed the mute’s behavior in pointing out Burdotte, but 
what connection could he establish between this and any 
former occurrence of which this boy might have been 
an observer ? How could this incident be made to feed 
his suspicions ? 

Arden had not given him an opportunity to exact an 
explanation. 


160 


ON THE VERGE. 


“ Things must be left to reveal themselves,” he mused. 

Dunny-Deaf ran off to disport himself with the other 
children. 

When Edmon reached the hotel, he found Mrs. Bur- 
dotte waiting for him. 

“ Jacques,” she said, “ has left me for the billiard-room, 
which seems to have a marvelous fascination for him, and 
everybody is concerned about the ball.” 

“ Have you lost your taste for such amusements that 
you, too, are not excited over the coming event?” he 
asked. 

“ Oh ! the prospect is agreeable enough ; but an inter- 
change of feeling and opinions between enlisted souls, re- 
ciprocal in their sympathy, is essential to enjoyment, and 
that is what is lacking to make me supremely happy in 
looking forward to this grand occasion.” 

“ You mean that the Captain’s likings run counter to 
yours, or rather not exactly in the same groove.” Edmon 
dreaded to look up as he spoke. 

“ He is not in sympathy with me and can never be so ; 
our natures antagonize and must always repel each other.” 

“ But why should this be so always ? ” The question 
was put timidly ; the speaker ventured to look up ; he 
caught the soft flashes of her eyes, which were peering 
into his very soul, as it were, and seeking there a respon- 
sive sympathy to feed hope upon. 

“Because there is and always will be an immovable 
barrier between us — we are separated in heart.” 

Theyhad crossed the hall, passed out on one of the ver- 
andas and were alone. There was an irresistible magnet- 


ON THE VERGE. 


161 


ism in this woman, and Edmon Auley was completely 
under its influence. She was perfectly aware of this and 
determined, at this moment, to again arouse the passion 
for her which she knew already existed in his heart. 
Without this, her scheme desperately devised and more 
desperately yet to be executed, would fail — the one object 
that she now lived, struggled and hoped for with an in- 
tensity amounting to madness, and that made her daring 
even to recklessness, would be lost forever. With her 
most melting and persuasive tones, and with a tenderness 
of manner which no one could employ more effectually, 
she wove her spell about her companion until he was lost 
in the witchery of her charms and ready to acknowledge 
himself the submissive slave of her will. 

“Then, Edmon, you still cherish a remembrance of 
those words ? ” 

“ How could I forget them ? ” 

“ I thought you would erase them from memory, and 
yet I hoped against hope that you could not, if you 
would, forget.” 

“You have raised an impassable barrier between us. 
By your gift, your hand and heart belong to another.” 

“ How cruel are your words! My heart, never ! You 
do forget, I now see, how you wrung from me, at our last 
meeting, expressions my lips never uttered to another, 
and then turned away, conscious of the wrong you had 
done, leaving me to become in my misery the tortured 
victim of one I could not love.” 

Dora’s words were reproachfully uttered, but a soft, 
mellow light fell from her beaming eyes as she spoke. 

“ Can it be possible,” thought Edmon, “ that my 


162 


ON THE VERGE. 


thoughtless abruptness so wrought upon the sensibilities 
of this fair creature as to drive her, the victim of a cruel 
doubt, to seek a refuge she would otherwise have 
shunned ? ” In a sad tone, he said aloud : 

“ Dora, your act was very cruel to me in the certainty 
of faithlessness it implied ; but it is vain to suffer our- 
selves to be deluded by an empty hope in the face of 
inexorable facts. Confessions now would be sinful. The 
happiness they might have promised once is gone — ” 

“ Stop ! Edmon ; do not say the rest — it must not be — 
forever ! ” 

“ But — ” 

“ Dally not with the accursed suggestion ! Never, 
never have I, since that dreadful hour when I submitted 
to the empty mockery of the marriage ceremony, a 
shadow without substance, given to another’s unholy 
arms what sacredly I could not ! My love is as spotless and 
pure as when I would have laid my heart at your feet on 
the evening you sought my confession ; yet you cherish 
the idea of the great wrong my wild, desperate, mad act 
inflicted ! Speak, Edmon, I must know from your lips if 
I must become cold and insensible, if the hope you kin- 
dled and I have cherished must turn to ashes ! ” 

“ Why seek to force a confession,” Edmon mournfully 
asked, “ that should never be made ? ” 

The young man turned away. He could gaze no longer 
on that lovely, sorrowful face without falling at Dora’s 
feet and pouring out his soul’s acknowledgement of her 
power. 

His question was in itself a confession, a compromise 
to be accepted or rejected. It was rejected. Mrs. Bur- 


ON THE VERGE. 


163 


dotte had resolved to be satisfied with nothing less than a 
free and full avowal of Edmon’s love for her. She had 
been open and unequivocal in her declarations, and her 
heart cried out for the same response ; therefore, she said, 
in a tone of startling anguish : 

“ Edmon, I see I must accept the fate you force upon 
me as your revenge for the rash act I committed, an act 
which you now declare must separate us forever ! ” 

These words rang in the young man’s ears with the 
sting of torture. Perhaps, if he had kept his face averted, 
he might have escaped by further evasions the open con- 
fession of a passion he had thought it no sin to secretly 
cherish, however wrong an open avowal of it might be ; 
but he glanced up at Dora and the supreme fascination of 
the woman seized upon him. It was a moment fraught 
with danger, as strong emotions heaved and surged. The 
verge of the abyss had been reached. 

Dora Burdotte now felt assured of a final triumph. 
Her whole being yielded to the sweet delirium of suc- 
cess. The object of her aspirations was near her — she 
would only have to reach forth her hand and grasp. On 
the night of the great ball her conquest would be com- 
pleted ; the way had been cleared. Thenceforth Edmon 
should be made to feel as well as confess that he could not 
live without her. 

Dora Burdotte had evidently resolved to use the 
secret she held to drive Jacques Burdotte from her, and 
to legally break the bond that prevented her from 
taking Edmon Auley as her husband. 

10 


164 


THE GRAND BALL. 


CHAPTER XYI. 

THE GRAND BALL. 

“And when 

Music arose with its voluptuous swell. 

Soft eyes looked love to eyes which spoke again.” — Byron. 

I T was the evening of the grand ball at the Springs. 

Splendor blazed out from that spacious hall, with 
its walls and side rooms handsomely decorated, brilliant 
with dazzling light. 

The excitement of the dance had not begun ; prome- 
nading, the gathering of the gay company, pleasantry and 
the hum of musical voices were as yet the most prominent 
features. 

“ I am to have the honor of your hand for the first 
dance,” whispered Edmon Auley, as he came up with 
Mrs. Burdotte, and walked with her to the side room 
where her husband was engaged in conversation with a 
few of his friends, and where his wife, in company with 
another lady, had left him only a short time before. 

A murmur of admiration involuntarily burst forth 
from several of the groups as Dora swept along in all the 
beauty and with the stately dignity of a queen. 

“ Lovely ! ” was a repeated exclamation. “ Regal ! ” 
was echoed along the hall. 

“ Nothing this side of the celestial portals so ethere- 
ally beautiful ! ” was a sentiment expressed by some one 
and eagerly assented to by several elderly gentlemen, who 


THE GRAND BALL. 


165 


seemed to be struck with as much wonder as if an 
apparition from those delightful gates had suddenly come 
among them. 

Edmon experienced a feeling of pride as he heard the 
flattering comments upon Dora’s beauty. 

Shortly after leaving Mrs. Burdotte, Auley was 
approached by Gustave Arden. 

“ A regular heart-crusher,” said the artist, “and you 
are her favored knight ! But wait ; you will find others 
here to contest the palm with you !” 

“Arden,” replied Edmon, somewhat snappishly, “you 
are the most persistent bore I ever met ! ” 

“ Tut ! don’t lose your senses ! This is a time for cool 
heads! I want to make good my declaration!” 

“ What declaration ? I don’t book your speeches, and 
it would be impossible to remember them all without ! ” 

“ Well, I will refresh your memory in a few minutes ; 
but have you seen Captain Burdotte ? ” 

“ He is in that room with a few of his friends.” 

“ Come, then. He is going right there. That’s the 
fellow — they call him Captain Manning ; he is a noted 
duelist and genteel desperado. Watch Burdotte.” 

As they entered the room the individual referred to, 
who was apparently somewhat beyond the middle age of 
life and gayly dressed, passed inside also. Edmon at once 
recognized this person as the champion shot he had seen 
at a recent target practice on the grounds belonging to 
the Springs. 

On entering the room Captain Manning, rather coolly 
'and with an air of much indifference, spoke to Burdotte, 
Who, in turn, hardly acknowledged the greeting. 


166 


THE GRAND BALL. 


“ What does this mean, Arden?” said Edmon. “Don’t 
be so enigmatical, if you place any value upon our friend- 
ship.” 

“ There is no time to solve riddles now ; keep your eyes 
open and your wits about you, and things will explain 
themselves.” 

“ Really, I am dazed — how charming ! ” exclaimed 
Manning, as he boldly confronted Dora Burdotte in the 
presence of her husband. “You have awakened so much 
admiration among the guests that it quite startles me.” 

“ Why, Captain? ” Mrs. Burdotte mingled the pleasure 
she experienced at the compliment with an artful ex- 
pression of surprise. 

“ Because there are one hundred or more, young and 
old, if you will permit the addition of the latter, dying 
to try the luxury of the dreamy, love-making dance with 
the queen of the ball room ! I shall have to yield more 
of my favors to-night than I expected.” 

“ Such a flatterer ! If I did not know you, you might 
turn my head, but I am not so giddy now as I once was.” 

There was a revulsion going on in the feelings of 
Edmon Auley, at the bold effrontery and presumption of 
this swell, that savored strongly of disgust. 

Captain Burdotte was a picture well worth studying at 
this moment. “Will it result in a scene?” thought 
Edmon, as he saw the clouds come and go over the hus- 
band’s countenance. Finally, Burdotte with one or two 
of his friends, rose and passed out. 

Gustave Arden stood near a window, with his elbow 
resting on a moulding, looking on; he whispered to 
Edmon as the party left : 


THE GRAND BALL. 


167 


“He couldn’t stand it any longer. Dance but once 
to-night, and, when Manning gets possession of her, 
watch them. It will be no discredit for you to play at 
eavesdropping, if you find the opportunity — but mum’s 
the word ! ” 

Edmon turned about, no little exasperated at this con- 
stant impertinence, which, by this time and in this 
connection, he thought Gustave ought to know was 
annoying to him ; but the latter was gone. 

Captain Manning felt chagrined as Edmon led the 
queen of the ball room on the floor for the first dance as 
his partner. He was evidently puzzled, as he had felt 
sure of this honor and had not believed any one could 
snatch it from him. Was this daring youth a rival? 
He must know, and that night the contest between them 
must be settled. 

The dance went on. 

w Who is Captain Manning ? ” inquired Edmon, when 
the music ceased. 

U A former acquaintance — a little spoiled in youth — 
that is all.” 

Auley could not disguise a feeling of uneasiness when 
he saw Manning lead Mrs. Burdotte on the floor for the 
next dance. The very fact that she condescended to 
recognize such a man as among her acquaintances fell 
like lead upon his heart and did more to set him to 
thinking rationally than anything that had happened 

since he left R . The man was evidently a scoundrel, 

whatever might be said in favor of his means, lineage or 
associations. Ladies and gentlemen might admit him to 
their social circles because of his family connections ; 


168 


THE GRAND BALL. 


but, if so, it was because society was wrongly constructed. 
No real lady would countenance him, no real gentleman 
would acknowledge an association with him. But hold ! 
The woman who thus publicly received Manning’s atten- 
tions had also accepted his own — and was a wife! Was 
Captain Manning any worse than himself? “ Great God !” 
inwardly exclaimed Edmon, “how near destruction I 
have been!” 

Again came the music’s “voluptuous swell,” in soft 
and melting tones which grew louder in the grander notes, 
and the dance was renewed. 

Edmon Auley’s eyes were on one couple. He watched 
their every movement as they went round and round, 
himself unobserved among the spectators, as he pretended 
to be engaged in examining the portraits and other dec- 
orations which hung upon the walls, imparting the 
appearance of an art gallery to the hall. He did not 
fail to observe that Captain Manning was certainly infat- 
uated with his partner and seemed like one under the 
influence of some strange spell, and he wondered, after 
all, if Dora’s daring and artful attractions were not 
intended for him. The Captain was susceptible and she 
knew it. What could she mean ? By what motive was 
she moved ? What could be her ultimate design ? In 
this case Mrs. Burdotte was taking advantage of her 
partner’s weakness; had she not done the same with 
himself? 

In this state of mind Edmon had just reached the 
other end of the hall, when suddenly the music and dance 
ceased ; it was only a pause, however, that preceded a 
change, and the dancers sauntered about or stood in 


THE GRAND BALL. 


169 


groups while waiting. The young man had just stepped 
behind a large pillar, one of the main supports of the 
floor above, when a couple, at once recognized, swept by 
without observing him and stopped in front of a large 
picture frame, as if struck by the painting it contained, 
and began a conversation in a low tone. 

Edmon found himself eavesdropping as Arden had ad- 
vised, but it was no fault of his, and he caught words and 
parts of sentences which staggered him. There might be 
only a flirtation meant, but that was sufficient. If it was 
no flirtation, it was love-making, and that was more than 
enough to arouse his manhood to assert itself over his 
delusion. He could not be mistaken in the meaning of a 
portion of the dialogue and its application. 

“Are you, indeed, so blind, so precipitate, that you 
stumble over the object you covet ? ” 

“ Then, tell me. who is he that won your first favor to- 
night ? ” 

“ Oh ! now you are jealous ! A cousin, perhaps; but, 
as you claim the right to my heart so audaciously, would 
you also be so tyrannically selfish as to deprive me of the 
privilege of — breaking another’s, if I choose, by my 
smiles ? ” 

This remark was followed by a musical laugh. 

Edmon Auley stood like one suddenly petrified. But 
the whirl of human forms began again, as round and 
round the couples moved, “dancing in the graceful 
waltz.” 

This was the “ Coronal ” dance, and consisted of three 
rings of dancing couples around an open space in the cen- 
tre. The lady’s right hand joined the gentleman’s left, 


170 


THE GRAND BALL. 


held in an elevated position, only at the beginning, in the 
form of a bow — the lady’s left hand on her partner’s 
shoulder, and the partner’s right slightly around her 
waist. Thus, in circles moving in the same direction to 
slow, soft music, the dance went on. 

Exclamations of delight, wonder and admiration burst 
from the spectators. The side rooms were emptied of 
those guests who had filled them, finding their amuse- 
ment in conversation and other pastimes, everybody being 
anxious to witness the evolutions of this new dance. 

“ Partners foward, and first circle move to the right,” 
was the call. 

The outer circle broke at the appointed couple, hands 
at first elevated coming to a rest in front of each pair. 
The appointed couple moved toward the band at one end 
of the hall, followed in succession by the other pairs of 
this circle, and, keeping up the circular movement, passed 
to the right, and around the full width and length of the 
hall. As the last couple of this circle in the execution of 
this movement reached the point where the first broke off’ 
in widening out the moving wreath of dancers, the second 
call was given : 

“ First inner circle fall in, and partners move to the 
right.” 

This movement was the same as the first, the appointed 
pair breaking at the same end of the circle, and falling in 
behind the last couple of the first circle as it came to this 
point. Then the third call was given, as the last pair of 
the first inner wreath came around to the proper place. 

“ Second inner circle fall in, and partners move to 
right.” 


THE GRAND BALL. 171 

When the leaders of the first circle reached the oppo- 
site end of the hall, the call was : 

“ First couple lead to the centre.” 

This pair moved to the right and down the middle of 
the hall, followed by the other couples in succession and 
in proper order. Then came the next call : 

u File to the right first and second circles ; inner circle 
form crown or wreath.” 

The first circle leaders, on arriving at the stand, filed, 
as before, to the right, followed by all the pairs of .the 
two circles, going around the hall ; the third circle, how- 
ever, on its leaders coming to the point where they first 
broke to fall into the train, here left the latter, swinging 
to the right and round, and once more formed its wreath. 
On coming around, the leaders of the first inner circle fell 
out of line in like manner, moving to the right and 
round the second inner circle already constructed. On 
the third round the first circle gracefully formed the outer 
ring in the style of the others, and the crown was once 
more complete. These movements were executed with a 
harmony and precision which won applause from all 
sides. 

Mrs. Burdotte was the one central object of attraction, 
as to her and her partner had been assigned the place of 
honor as leaders in the first or outer circle, and on the 
faithful exactness of this couple, in the execution of the 
part they assumed, in no small measure depended the 
success of this novel performance. 

Dora Burdotte’s superb figure was more conspicuous 
than that of any other lady present. Of course, much of 
her ecla-t was due to her elegant attire, which, in itself, 


172 


THE GRAND BALL. 


was sensationally brilliant. Her dress was a sky-colored 
silk, flowing like a lilmy cloud, with pendants of pearls 
glistening among the ruffling and tiny diamond-like stars 
peeping from tucks artfully contributed to entice furtive 
inspection. Bows on either side exposed their bead-like 
threads of radiant lining or dazzling jewels. 

Dora’s surpassing beauty shone out beneath the rich 
splendor of the gems which decked it. Yet not more in 
elegant lace work, frills and puffs, bejeweled arms and 
brow, and other coquetry of fashion than in her oval face, 
with its delicately tinted cheeks, pouting lips and melting 
eyes, soft and searching, added to a stately carriage, well- 
rounded shoulders and heaving bosom, was to be found 
that attraction which drew about Mrs. Burdotte the 
admiring couples when the music ceased. 

Many solicited the honor of her hand for the next 
dance, but she evaded them with the excuse of a previous 
engagement, as she walked off with Gustave Arden, who 
was near by, and who gallantly led her to a resting- 
place. 

“ Where is mon ami , Edmon ? ” she asked, after being 
seated. 

“ Oh ! I saw him studying art at the beginning of the 
dance ; shortly afterwards he looked like a petrifaction 
stuck against a post out yonder.” 

“ Stop your folly, and bring the truant here ! I missed 
him when the dance ended.” 

Arden started to execute her command. He found 
Auley in one of the rooms, quietly hidden in a corner. 
The young man was sitting behind the broad back of a 
large chair, with his face toward the wall. 


THE GRAND BALL. 173 

tl Not asleep, I hope ! Only dreaming with your eyes 
open, eh ? ” 

Edmon looked up in surprise ; he fancied he had heard 
that mode of interrogation before ; it could not be possi- 
ble, however. 

“ Your lady has sent for you to ask your permission to 
dance with me,” continued Gustave. 

Edmon Auley was in no frame of mind for such levity ; 
but he saw no other way of escape than by humoring 
it, so he replied : 

“ Go tell her I have feasted and others must taste the 
repast! You are quite welcome to the luxury you 
desire.” 

“ But you don ’t mean that.” 

“ Tell her, then, you could not find me ; no, tell her the 
truth — -that I am indisposed and have just retired to 
my room — I am going now.” 

u Well, that will do. In half an hour or more I will 
be at your door for you. Have Dunny-Deaf there and 
I will take you to a mimic show, compared with which 
what you see here is tame ! Prepare for a surprise ! ” 

“ More riddles ! Will the man never tire of his ridic- 
ulous and absurd platitudes which he means for myste- 
rious wit ? ” thought Edmon as Arden departed. 

However, in this instance, the artist seemed more 
positive than usual ; and now, when Edmon Auley came 
to think of it seriously, the vague hints of Gustave 
Arden had not been without substantial significance in 
regard to facts revealing themselves. The more he 
reflected the more his interest in the artist increased, and 
his mind began to waver in its doubts of the real profes- 


174 


THE GRAND BALL. 


sional character assumed by him. He could not be the 
stranger of the inn in disguise ; the peculiar mode of 
interrogation he had induged in had an important bear- 
ing on this suggestion, but in itself was too trifling a 
thread to hang such a conclusion on, and he dismissed 
this shade of suspicion. 

In the side room below, after leaving the hall, Edmon 
had been deeply pondering over his own situation. He 
had committed himself to Dora Burdotte in all the 
warmth of youthful ardor, and had listened with a feel- 
ing of intense satisfaction to her intoxicating protesta- 
tions of a pure and uncontaminated love for him, in the 
course of which she had revealed her true relations to 
her husband. Further, a plot was implied by her deport- 
ment toward Captain Burdotte, whom she evidently 
designed to betray and humiliate to promote some selfish 
end. She had decoyed Captain Manning, and, perhaps, 
made him a party to her scheme. So far as he himself 
was concerned, he did not wish to evade the self-accusa- 
tion that he had been a voluntary abettor of her device, 
whatever the end she sought to accomplish. He was 
on trial before the bar of his own conscience, and pleaded 
guilty to a grave charge. He acknowledged his weak- 
ness in yielding to the enticements of a designing woman. 
He bitterly confessed himself a fool, a weakling, a child. 
But he would stop short where he was ; he would go no 
further in this unholy path. 

It was from this conscious-stricken and self- accusing 
reverie that the artist had aroused him. 

The dance was over and Gustave Arden led Dora Bur- 
dotte to the room where Captain Manning first introduced 


THE GRAND BALL. 


175 


himself that evening. Captain Burdotte had returned, if 
anything appearing gloomier than before he left. Arden 
was about to retire to fill his engagement with Auley, when 
Manning entered the room, and, hastily stepping up to 
Mrs. Burdotte, with a bow, asked for her hand in the next 
dance she would consent to take part in. 

Captain Burdotte rose, and, advancing toward Man- 
ning, in a quiet, courteous manner, yet coolly and reso- 
lutely, said: 

u My wife is engaged for the rest of the evening.” 

With a sarcastic curl of his lip, Manning bowed him- 
self out. 

There was a seriousness in Captain Burdotte’s manner 
that suggested resentment. His anger had been aroused, 
although he studiously repressed every outward indication 
of the storm raging within. He had, undoubtedly, heard 
the vaunting words and observed the demeanor of Man- 
ning at billiards a few moments before, and had taken 
this method to silence the impertinent fellow. Perhaps, 
Captain Manning was only too willing to accept this as a 
prelude to an affair of honor, and there may have been 
more strategy than accident in his behavior. 


176 


A LETTER FROM FRANK. 


CHAPTER XVII. 

A LETTER FROM FRANK. 

“ Best men are moulded out of faults.” — Shakespere. 

F OR several days Grade Straight had been confined 
to her room by merely physical exhaustion, but her 
appetite had been good, and she was rapidly recovering 
her strength. Flora had resumed her visits to the man- 
sion. Her habit of going there every afternoon had 
become so settled that Mrs. Sealey no longer needed to 
repeat her solicitations. The young girl’s piano was still 
there in its old place, and she was a proficient performer 
on the instrument. Mrs. Sealey was a pronounced lover 
of music and always took her seat near Flora, when she 
came, to be entertained. Flora was her favorite of the 
two young ladies, or appeared to be so, perhaps, because 
she was the youngest, or it might have been that a feeling 
of preference was based upon the innocent artlessness of 
this fair girl which won its way into that lady’s heart. 

On the present occasion Flora was examining a new 
piece of music, when Mrs. Sealey casually remarked : 

“ Mr. Auley is at the Springs, I understand.” 

“Ah ! he is ?” Her fingers ran over a bar either from 
memory or from the sheet before her. 

“ I learned this not long since. Do you know why he 
left here, Flora ?” 

The young girl blushed, and her hands were with- 
drawn from the keys of the instrument. 


A LETTER FROM FRANK. 


177 


“ I did not mean to intimate,” continued the questioner, 
“ that you were acquainted with his movements ; but when 
our friends come and go there is usually something said 
about it, you know.” 

“ Mr, Auley, I believe, goes and comes very often,” 
ventured Flora. 

“ But you once said he was quite at home here before 
your father's misfortune.” 

“ Yes.” 

A deep flush suffused Flora’s cheeks. She thought 
Mrs. Sealey had forgotten that silly admission of hers. 

“ Why was he so much at home here ? I have a motive 
for asking ; no idle curiosity, I assure you, prompts the 
question.” 

“ What motive can she have ?” thought Flora, as she 
replied : “He was fond of company, and always expressed 
himself pleased with my music.” 

“ And his visits became a habit after awhile ? ” 

“ I confess he came very often. I looked for him and 
missed him when he did not come. We had almost grown 
up in this way; there was a sort of companionship attach- 
ment between us.” 

“ But your music was the principal attraction, I sup- 
pose ?” 

Flora was somewhat confused by this question, which 
she considered was aimed at her secret. 

“ I know you may hold this matter as sacred,” Mrs. 
Sealey added, “ too sacred to be laid bare to the inquisi- 
tive ; and, if I now appear rude or impertinent, you will 
understand me better by and by. I have thought a great 
deal over your remark to me a short while ago that he 


178 


A LETTER FROM FRANK. 


was, at one time, quite at home here ; and I have felt 
some desire ever since to know the reason he has not been 
as much at home at your new abode. Is it his, his 
friends’, of your own fault ?” 

“ Mine, mine ! — he is not to blame. He asked my 
permission to call as before, and I refused to give it. 
Was I not right ?” 

“ Both right and wrong, as viewed from different stand- 
points. You showed a proper regard for the feelings of 
his friends, perhaps, but you may have wounded his. He 
acted nobly, and, it would seem, deserved a better fate. 
But he did not call again, I presume ?” 

“ No.” 

Mrs. Sealey wished to inquire further, but felt that her 
inquisitiveness might be misconstrued. It was clear to 
her now that Edmon Auley had not deserted this fair girl 
without a cause ; no noble-minded youth could have done 
so after such an intimacy as had sprung up between them, 
for Flora possessed a sweet disposition and attractive ac- 
complishments, besides undeniable beauty. Edmon Auley 
must have loved her and looked forward with hope to a 
holier companionship than that of a mere friendly acquain- 
tance. They were, perhaps, engaged, and, if so, Flora 
had undoubtedly done wrong to prohibit his attentions 
under the seal of their vows. 

When the young girl rose to leave, Mrs. Sealey pro- 
duced a letter and gave it to her for delivery to Grade. 

“ Take this to her,” she said, “ but say nothing about 
it to any one else.” 

Flora remembered her mother, and, beseechingly look- 
ing up as she spoke, asked : 


A LETTER FROM FRANK. 


179 


11 Can we not take mother into our confidence ?” 

“ Just as your sister likes ; your mother now knows all 
about those matters to which I suppose you allude. ” 

“You are so good and tender in your sympathy, or I 
might not have told you so much about Mr. Auley as I 
did,” said Flora, striving to force a smile. 

“ Then I may hope to learn more when you come 
again ?” 

Miss Straight turned away her face, ran down the steps, 
passed through the front gate and was soon lost to view. 

On reaching home, Flora laid the letter she had brought 
from Mrs. Sealey in her sister’s lap. The handwriting 
was familiar. It was from Frank, and a long letter, too — 
in fact, a love missive. While it did not clear away the 
mystery, it contained assurances that all would be revealed 
at the proper time, which was close at hand. 

Flora had retired that her sister might read the letter 
alone, and when she entered the room again, Gracie 
remarked : 

“ Edmon is at the Springs, and who else do you think 
are there?” 

“Iam sure I cannot guess.” 

“ Captain Burdotte and his wife.” 

This announcement was like a thunderclap in its effect 
on Flora — she was stunned by it ; it was too much for 
her to hear and she fled from the room. 

It is said that a man reasons to a conclusion, but that 
a woman thrusts aside all logic and comes to it at once. 
The first suggestion that rose in Flora’s mind pictured 
Edmon Auley enraptured by the fascinating charms of 
Dora Banks — a victim to her insinuating and insidious 
11 


180 


A LETTER FROM FRANK. 


arts. He must be pursuing her as the boy pursues the 
butterfly, excited by the outward display, but with indefi- 
nite, hopeless and reckless purpose. 

It was very natural for her to suppose that Edmon 
would not have been displeased with her attitude toward 
him on the evening before the party at Mrs. Banks’, and 
that his course would be one of noble acquiescence for a 
time. She had expected him to find some excuse to call 
on her again. How easily he could have occasionally 
met her, without any apparent design, at Mrs. Sealeys. 
Many opportunities might have been found, if he had 
desired them, and skilfully employed to modify or weaken 
her resolution, without an inadvisable persistence on his 
part to visit her as of old, and without an invasion of her 
sense of duty, or a surrender of his own self-esteem. 
Surely it was now manifest that all the feeling he had ever 
entertained for her was merely of a transient nature, or 
it could not so easily have been erased. He would not have 
failed to see that it was her duty to release him from an 
engagement formed under circumstances so different. 
This, in effect, only left him free to renew it, if he wished. 
He must have known that her feelings could not have been 
changed by the misfortunes of the family; and that he 
did not seek an opportunity to renew his engagement was 
an evidence that he had no desire to do so. 

Flora now called to mind how slight was the effort 
Edmon had made to induce her to relent. He did not 
assert his love with the earnestness of one who felt him- 
self plunged in gloom. He did not declare that he went 
from her presence without hope, in darkness, without the 
light of her love as a star to guide him from the shoals 


A LETTER FROM FRANK. 


181 


upon which his future might he miserably wrecked. She 
well remembered his speech, made up of a few unmeaning 
superlatives, that relieved him and made her responsible 
for their separation. As a woman of means and position 
in society he could have admired her — loved her ; as such 
he could have made her his wife and been happy. How 
different it was when the reverse came. Her qualities of 
heart and mind and her accomplishments were not the 
elements of attraction which had bound him to her. 

There was a rich vein of strong charity in the nature 
of Flora Straight. She revolted at these harsh senti- 
ments, and at last succeeded in choking them down as 
they rose to the surface to cry out against Edmon. 
“ What right,” she asked herself, “have I thus to pre- 
judge him? How do I know the motive which took 
him to the Springs ?” 

The project of adorning her uncle’s grave was a great 
relief to Flora at this time. It added variety to the daily 
routine and gave her something to divert her mind from 
those silent musings about Edmon that caused her so 
much pain. 

Grade was getting well, and would soon be able to go 
with her to the cemetery. The walk would do her good, 
and it would be pleasant for her to see the grave of their 
uncle nicely sodded, the slabs up and the granite curbs in 
place. Nothing further would then have to be done, 
except to keep the lot green and, from time to time, set 
out plants. Grade would aid her in this labor, which, 
though associated with sadness, would be pleasant as a 
grateful remembrance of the dead. 


182 


HOW MRS. BANKS WAS STARTLED. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

HOW MRS. BANKS WAS STARTLED. 

T HE ladies of R , attended by a few gentlemen, 

were engaged in trimming the grass and shrubbery 
in the cemetery of the town and in placing cut floral 
offerings on the graves of their dead. It was a day 
set apart, according to custom, for this work. 

It was a pleasant afternoon, and the first time since the 
day on which they entered the limits of this receptacle of 
the dead with the remains of Mr. Mullins that Mrs. 
Straight and her two daughters were seen there again. 
The four junipers ordered by Flora Straight were at the 
grave, and she was instructing the workmen where to 
plant them — one at each corner of the lot. When the 
planting was finished, she said : 

“ There was such an air of neglect here when I came 
out to see about this work that I wept. I feel better now 
it is done. You know, Grade, how uncle used to pat us 
on the cheeks and call us his ‘dear darlings.’ Now we 
have patted the green grass over him and planted these 
evidences of our lasting affection.” 

The work the mother and her daughters had contem- 
plated was now completed, and they watered it with their 
tears. This done, they visited some of the newer graves 
and departed. 

Among those strolling around the cemetery on this 
occasion were Mrs. Banks and her friend, Mrs. Toll 


HOW MRS. BANKS WAS STARTLED. 


183 


“ This is quite recent/’ said Mrs. Toll. 

“ And as neat as modest/’ added Mrs. Banks. 

“ Why, it is Mr. Mullins’ lot ! I did not at first recog- 
nize it on account of the changes.” 

“ Surely the family did not have this done ?” said Mrs. 
Banks, 

“ Perhaps the young ladies saved a little out of the 
wreck,” suggested Mrs. Toll. 

“ But how could they have saved anything ?” 

“ How some people manage after their misfortunes in 
life to make a show or parade their pretenses I do not 
know — we know, however, they do it sometimes.” 

“ But Mr. Straight has acted quite consistently through- 
out, they say.” 

“ Oh ! yes ; hut the young ladies — we were speaking of 
them.” 

“ The young ladies and Mrs. Straight didn’t become 
bankrupt, you see !” 

“ No ! I do see it now. If the ladies saved anything 
from the wreck, it must have been with Mr. Straight’s 
assent ; they were his silent trustees, and held the assign- 
ment unknown to their father’s creditors.” 

“Well, that is one way of looking at it,” and Mrs. 
Banks smiled at her own shrewdness and Mrs. Toll’s slow 
method of arriving at the truth by a purely logical 
deduction. “ These slabs are of the finest marble, and, 
though everything done here is plain and very modest, 
there has been some expense involved in this work. Mr. 
Mullins left no money, I believe,” continued Mrs. Banks. 

“None, as I understand,” replied Mrs. Toll; “but what 
are these lines on the headstone ?” 


184 HOW MBS. BANKS WAS STARTLED.' 

The two bent slightly over, and, as her eyes were the 
best without the use of glasses, Mrs. Banks read the 
words loudly enough for her friend to hear them. The 
second line strangely affected her, but, maintaining her 
self-possession, she remarked: 

“ That sounds as if they suspected his death was the 
work of an assassin.” 

“ Such was the general belief, you know, at the time,” 
said Mrs. Toll. 

“ Yes ; but nothing has ever been disclosed to confirm 
the first suggestion. It is somewhat remarkable, indeed, 
that a statement so vague and uncertain, totally lacking 
proof, should be inscribed on a tombstone expected to 
stand and tell its tale for all time. What possible evi- 
dence of the unseen mystery can they ever expect to base 
a suspicion on ? ” 

“None, unless they can make Dunny-Deaf — a silent 
witness — speak.” 

If Mrs. Banks had been suddenly struck by a thunder- 
bolt she could not have presented a more pitiable aspect 
then she did at that moment, A shiver ran through her, 
followed by a rigidity almost paralyzing in its effect. 

Mrs. Toll regarded her friend with astonishment and 
remarked : 

“ I thought Mr. Eldon’s connection with this tragedy 
was hardly doubted now by any one.” 

“ Really !” exclaimed Mrs. Banks, making a great effort 
to compose her feelings, as she recovered from her first 
shock. “ This affair had nearly passed out of my mind. 
No effort whatever has been made to ascertain Mr. 
Eldon’s whereabouts. As his absence can be accounted 


HOW MRS. BANKS WAS STARTLED. 


185 


for by bis intimacy, at tbe time with the family, his col- 
lapse in business ruined, and as the motive which induced 
him to leave will readily answer for his not returning, it 
seems mysterious that the old idea should be revived in 
this way. I am shocked at it.’ 7 

“The Straights must believe that Bailey Mullins was 
murdered; they surely do not accept the common rumor. 
Now, if Frank Eldon is not guilty, who could you imag- 
ine was the assassin ?” 

Mrs. Tolls voice appeared to have changed suddenly to 
a hoarse, guttural intonation, and the mistress of Vaiden 
Hall shuddered throughout her entire frame at this inad- 
vertent question so pointedly and pertinently addressed to 
her as she stood over this spot. The inquiry was more 
like a voice from the tomb than from the living. 

Mrs. Banks complained of a dizziness in the head, and 
shook as if suddenly attacked by an ague. . 

Mrs. Toll, perhaps, thought but little of the effect usu- 
ally produced by an afternoons association with tomb- 
stones in a graveyard, because to one of her mental 
calibre there was nothing sufficiently striking about it to 
awaken any unusually serious reflection. The living 
would have more effect in agitating her thinking faculty, 
or arousing her emotions, than the dead possibly could, 
unless under something more than merely ordinary condi- 
tions. She did think, however, that the view presented, 
at this time, by Mrs. Banks in regard to Frank Eldons 
suspicious relation to the death of Mr. Mullins was quite 
singular in being so different from that she had hereto- 
fore supposed her friend to hold. In fact, this one 
prominent incident having a relation to the living 


186 


HOW MRS. BANKS "WAS STARTLED. 


absorbed her and made up the whole of her meditations 
that evening. 

Not so with her companion in the stroll, who returned 
to Vaiden Hall quite nervous. The visit of the latter to 
the graves had somehow or other resulted in a very dis- 
agreeable train of reflection. She had been startled, and 
a creeping, chilly sensation, altogether strange and unusual, 
prevaded her whole frame. She took a mild stimulant, 
not upon the theory that spirits taken internally aid in 
keeping off spirits externally, but because of a general 
physical depression that seemed suddenly to have seized 
her. 

The truth is Mrs. Banks had an attack of delirium, the 
first she had ever had in her life. The servants did not 
know what to make of her condition or her confused talk. 
A great deal of her trouble appeared to be about the 
room on the second floor in the north-east corner of the 
building, the room which had been occupied by Captain 
Jacques Burdotte. 

Old Nan shook her head whenever the rest of the 
servants spoke of the matter, and frequently, with a 
solemn significance characteristic of the superstitions of 
her race in the days of servitude, exclaimed : 

“ His cornin’ brought back a evil day to de Hall !” 

“Why, Nan?” on one occasion some one of the kitchen 
attendants inquired. 

“ 'Kase it did, niggar ! Don’t ax !” 

“ A evil day sure ’nough,” continued the questioner, 
who knew the old negress must be humored. 

“ Sure ’nough, chile. Dis place 's seen many evil days. 
Some of you wur’n’t borned when de ole sur — marse, I 


HOW MRS. BANKS WAS STARTLED. 


187 


mean — left. Dey called ’im a pirute — a niggar pirute, 
’kase dey said he stole niggars. But ole marse was a 
boss ; he didn’t steal a niggar, he didn’t, an’ de courts 
said so, Whar was I ?” 

The old woman seemed to be lost in her narrative, 

“You was tellin’ ’bout a evil day bringin’ Captain 
Jackies yere, an’ got lost on one ob dem big yarns ’bout 
ole marse, who run ’way ’kase dey was arter ’im for buy- 
in’ an’ sellin’ cheap niggars.’’ 

“ Afore Heben, dat’s whar de las’ trouble come. Missus 
used to cry ’er eyes out ’bout ’is ways. Bad ! bad ! 
Never at home, on’y now and den, an’ den what times ! 
De bowl, de whip and de spur — de bowl fur de white 
devils, de whip fur de niggars, an’ de spur for de hosses ; 
an’ den he was gone. Sich days ! Missus could ’ave bin 
happy if plunder an’ money would ’ave dun it — thar wus 
sich sights ob it. But she left afore ’im — went in a beau- 
tiful carriage ; angils was in it, an’ she was took ’way. 
Lor’ ! I seen it all ! She neber — no, no, she neber 
corned back. It was good fur ’er dat she neber did, bless 
God ! it wus — but whar am I?” 

“ Tell us ’bout de evil day now, Dat ole yarn ’bout de 
devils cornin’ wun night, when de win’s blowed an’ de 
house shook, an’ ole marse was missed de nex’ day, is 
stale. What ’bout dis yere evil day an’ Captain Jackies?” 

“ Don’t ax it, chile ! Hab eny ob you bin in dat 
room ? It’s needin’ a’rin’ now, an’ it’s all ober wid cob- 
weds an’ dust. Missus sed dat dur was a silent witness 
in dat werry room ; she’s sort o’ duranged, but, Lordy, 
it’s so!” 

The gang of negroes, big and little, young and old, got 


188 


HOW MRS. BANKS WAS STARTLED. 


around Nan at this point and formed the usual picture 
presented by squads of their race about their quarters, in 
those days, when their superstitions were wrought upon 
or their interest aroused by the recital of anything 
strange or uncommon to them. The cobwebs and dust 
gathering about the front of the room, occupied by 
Captain Burdotte before he left, added to the fact that the 
ch.amber had not been aired after it was vacated by him, 
gave an interest to this new yarn told by Nan that made 
a very deep impression upon the minds of her auditors, 
who stood about her with their eyes wide open and fixed 
in a steady stare. 

“ Dar’s booty in dat room,” she continued, “ brought 
dar on de night ob a murder ! Captain Jack brought it 
— dat’s all ! Nan saw ’im ! Nan ain’t like odder nig- 
gars. Use’ to hab to sleep wid my eyes wide open, and 
wen I was ’wake had ’em wide open all de time. I’se not 
romancin’ nuther, Dat’s de silent witness missus talks 
’bout. Look out ! de hangmun ’ll be ’round arter a bit, 
an’ you niggars needn’t say you dunno nuffin’, ’kase ebery 
soul on you’ll be ’xamined afore court, ’prisoned may be, 
an’ den you’ll stare an’ show your teef wus’n you’re 
doin’ now !” 

While old Nan’s story momentarily produced a certain 
dread or fear in her listeners, this would wear off in the 
usual way, as all her yarns were considered mere fabrica- 
tions or crude flights of fancy, yet the ultimate effect 
would be to heighten curiosity and to cause whisperings 
about that mysterious room ; and, undoubtedly, the 
servants were ready to assent to the idea that it con- 
tained some secret which disturbed their mistress, and 


HOW MRS. BANKS WAS STARTLED. 


189 


which the old negress had colored up for the express 
purpose of exciting their wonder and augmenting the 
mystery in their minds. 

Mrs. Banks had been startled for the first time in the 
graveyard. Dora had spoken of the silent witness, but 
the meaning implied had been a dead letter to her mother. 
Mrs. Toll had furnished the key that unlocked the mys- 
tery of her daughter’s terror. How singular, too, that 
the explanation should have come from those lines on the 
headstone of Bailey Mullins’ grave, and to her standing 
over his tomb ! Her mind had all at once been filled 
with a dread horror, that was not in the least allayed by 
the deep, hollow, sepulchral tone of Mrs. Toll’s voice. 
The latter’s question appeared to have bubbled up through 
the ground — materialized, and as a dark phantom to have 
shadowed Mrs. Banks’ footsteps home with deadly and 
malicious design. 

The family physician pronounced her ailment a violent 
attack of hysteria, and as his patient began to recover 
advised the utmost prudence, recommending plenty of 
ventilation, light and exercise, with complete freedom from 
mental strain. He even went so far as to suggest a change 
of scene, as, in his judgment, it was essential to her complete 
restoration, adding that the next best thing would be to 
recall her daughter and son-in-law, as Vaiden Hall needed 
more persons about it to remove its dullness and counter- 
act the effect of its sombre monotony. The stimulus of 
their return would aid her, and their society would check 
her tendency to melancholy. 

He did not know her real trouble and how powerless 
he was to remove the exciting cause. 


190 


UNEXPECTED DEVELOPMENTS. 


CHAPTER XIX. 

UNEXPECTED DEVELOPMENTS. 

A RDEN went immediately to Edmon Anley’s room. 

Edmon had just mailed a note to Miss Flora 
Straight and was torturing himself with the idea that he 
had acted stupidly in the matter. 

“ After all, the work of the hangman is likely to be 
done by lead and powder!” exclaimed Gustave, as he 
accepted the proffered chair. 

Auley gazed inquiringly upon his visitor. 

“You need not take the trouble of asking questions 
now,” said the artist, observing Edmon’s inquiring look. 
“ I propose to take you to a little theatre, where a mock 
tragedy is to be performed, and if all apparent riddles 
and enigmas are not solved by the scenes enacted, or by 
the actors themselves, to your entire satisfaction, I will be 
willing to submit to examination, and I promise you 
to be lucid then for once; but I will explain my last 
riddle, if such it maybe called.” 

Arden then related the scene that had occurred a few 
minutes before between Manning and Burdotte, and gave 
his opinion of the probable result it would lead to. 

“ There is something else you can also explain now,” 
said Auley, “which, perhaps, has no connection with your 
proposed drama. I would like to know who Captain 
Manning is and how he came here at this time.” 


UNEXPECTED DEVELOPMENTS. 


191 


“ I will briefly tell you what I have gathered. He is 
of a good family and that is about all the good that can 
be said of him, for he is a scape grace, a gambler, a duel- 
ist, a bravo and a coward — but a dead shot ; his confi- 
dence lies in his marksmanship. How he came here I 
am unable to say. I overheard a conversation between 
him and Mrs. Burdotte, and at once set the affair down as 
a flirtation, though subsequent events hint at something 
more serious. This conclusion was forced upon me by 
certain remarks relative to former impressions, her en- 
couragement and his constancy during a past acquaintance 
between them. The fellow, I noticed, was exceedingly 
forward and familiar, and the husband’s presence seemed 
to be a matter of indifference to him. I could not resist 
the idea that Mrs. Burdotte was simply playing upon the 
ruffian’s stupidity. Manning left here the day before 
your arrival, for a day or two, as he said, and I fancy I 
probed the secret of his absence. It related to Mrs. Bur- 
dotte. As youthful as she is, that woman is a master of 
artful trickery. A deeply laid scheme was developing 
in her mind. Manning was the tool of her plot and 
Burdotte the victim. Do you understand? ” 

“ I think I do,” replied Edmon, as his thoughts re- 
verted to the flirtation of the ball room. “ But the object 
of her plot — have you mastered that ? ” he asked. 

“No; but enough. We must go to my room. Bring 
Dunny-Deaf along.” 

Edmon Auley was not prepared for the surprise he 
met with on entering Arden’s apartments. 

“ You know this gentleman, I suppose,” said Gustave, 
smiling slyly. 


192 


UNEXPECTED DEVELOPMENTS. 


“ Frank Eldon !” he exclaimed, advancing with extended 
hand toward his friend. 

“ Glad to see yon, Auley.” 

A hearty shake of the hand and kind expressions 
followed this greeting. 

Owing to the former relations of these two young men 
with the family of Mr. Straight they were on the most 
familiar terms with each other. Edmon had never doubted 
Frank’s innocence, and had always felt that he, in due 
time, would turn up ; but this meeting was unexpected 
and beyond his comprehension. 

Eldon had observed Dunny-Deaf and beckoned the 
boy to him. The mute gazed wonderingly at him, at 
first, but with a look of pleasure on his countenance. 
Frank exhibited every sign of kindness toward the lad, 
who seemed intelligently to comprehend this treatment. 

Arden was busy with his wardrobe. 

“We have been waiting for this,” he said, as he appeared 
in a new garb, which he had just donned. “ We have 
known the murderer of Mr. Mullins all the time, or rather, 
our suspicions have amounted to a certainty to us. Our 
present object is to make the matter doubly sure, and 
also to acquaint ourselves with some of the facts of the 
killing.” 

Any one knowing Captain Burdotte well, and stepping 
into the room at that moment, would undoubtedly have 
taken Gustave Arden for him, so complete was the imita- 
tion even to the black whiskers, dark brow and black 
hair. The only things which looked out of place were 
some parts of his attire. Dunny-Deaf had watched this 
change with much interest. 


UNEXPECTED DEVELOPMENTS. 


193 


A diagram of Bailey Mullins’ premises and some of its 
immediate surroundings was laid on the table, against 
which Frank Eldon leaned. The boy gazed at it with 
surprise, as he pointed to the dark room and then to 
Arden. 

“ This boy,” said Frank, addressing Auley, “ has pointed 
out the murderer of Mr. Mullins more than once. On 
the afternoon following the crime he was observed to 
direct attention to Captain Burdotte. A person who 
witnessed the scene in front of the bow-windows of 
Markam & Co.’s variety store was so impressed by it that 
he reported it to Mr. Skaggs. Since your arrival here 
Gustave has been preparing a way to get at the bottom 
facts with the aid of this mute. He witnessed the recent 
incident on the path when Dunny-Deaf communicated to 
you, as intelligibly as he could, that he continued to spot 
the assassin. Perhaps you had before that been experi- 
menting with the boy in that direction.” 

“ Yes, slightly, at an inn the first day out from R 

on my way here; but it was at the suggestion of a 
stranger there, who appeared very inquisitive and whom 
I observed, the morning we left, engaged, as I thought, in 
trying the intelligence of Dunny-Deaf on that point. I 
would like to meet that man again.” 

“This is the diagram used on that morning in the 
room next to yours, in the tests you speak of, made by 
the stranger with the mute.” 

Edmon noticed the significant glances exchanged be- 
tween Arden and Frank, as the latter continued : 

“ I saw a man on the road leading from the town to 
Mr. Mullins’ on the night of the tragedy ; he was dressed 


194 


UNEXPECTED DEVELOPMENTS. 


somewhat as Gustave is now. I gave Mrs. Sealey as close 
a description of the man as I could. The first time she 
saw Jacques Burdotte she recognized him by that descrip- 
tion. When Burdotte arrived here, and I transferred my 
quarters to this place, I noticed the striking likeness at 
once in some particulars. We wish now to have our sus- 
picions confirmed, and, if possible, trace up by the cir- 
cumstances some evidence that will aid us in convicting 
him. After the experiment to-night we will decide upon 
further action.” 

Frank Eldon, being acquainted with the room in which 
Mr. Mullins was killed, had Arden’s apartment arranged 
as nearly as possible to correspond with it. He explained 
to Edmon the programme adopted and requested him to 
appear as Mr. Mullins, giving him the requisite instructions. 
Arden was to impersonate Jacques Burdotte, acting upon 
his own imagination. In order to impart a knowledge to 
Dunny-Deaf of what was expected of him in the perform- 
ance, scenes at the table, with the papers thereon and at 
the chest, all as they had occurred in Bailey Mullins’ 
room previous to the murder, and which had been parti- 
cipated in by Frank Eldon in a businsss transaction there 
that night, were gone through with intelligibly, Eldon 
directing these from his actual acquaintance with what 
had been done. 

After Frank Eldon had played his part and withdrawn, 
leaving Edmon impersonating Mr. Mullins at the table, 
there was an intelligence exhibited by the mute that the 
other actors had not expected to see disclosed. The lad’s 
interest was fully aroused, his heart seemed to be in the 
matter, and he evidently felt that the opportunity had, 


UNEXPECTED DEVELOPMENTS. 


195 


at last, been offered him to do what he had desired — 
make an intelligible disclosure of the murderer of his 
benefactor, the method by which the crime had been 
committed and its object. Dunny-Deaf prompted by 
signs, Arden, acting as Captain Burdotte, entering the 
room, striking his victim, rifling the chest, gathering the 
bundles from the table and blowing out the light as he 
departed. The lad also pointed out how he had lain con- 
cealed, having secreted himself under the bed when Bur- 
dotte struck the fatal blow. It was as clear a case as ever 
was testified to in a court of justice. Dunny-Deaf used 
the diagram and pointed to the door entered by the 
assassin ; at the same time he signified who the latter 
was by putting his hand on Arden when necessary in his 
pantomimic explanations. The problem to be solved 
was simple and the solution was reached with the aid of 
the diagram, by using the means supplied in the room. 

When this part of the performance was concluded, 
Edmon Auley, with some surprise manifested in his face, 
remarked : 

“ And this diagram was at the village inn where we 

stopped the first night after leaving B , and was used 

by the stranger there the next morning in an experiment 
with Dunny-Deaf? ” 

“Yes,” replied Gustave Arden; “and have you never 
suspected the odd individual you met there to be the 
same person who fell in with you again on the road as 
an amateur artist ? ” 

“ To-night, for the first time, I had a faint suspicion 
that such might be the case when you came to me in the 
room below.” 

12 


196 


UNEXPECTED DEVELOPMENTS. 


“What caused such a suspicion to enter your mind 
then?” 

“ An odd mode of interrogation you used.” 

“ I knew it ! That was no lapsus linguae, I assure you.” 

“You are more of a professional detective than either 
an amateur artist or a poet, I imagine,” said Auley, as 
the light broke fully upon his mind. 

“Now you have solved my enigmatical character, and 
I hope my past impertinence is excused.” 

The trio expressed much amusement over what had 
preceded the scene just enacted. Finally, Edmon re- 
marked inquiringly to Arden : 

“You visited R , the scene of the murder you are 

tracing up, did you not ? ” 

“ I did, and made this diagram there. Afterwards, I 
shadowed Burdotte at the village inn, followed him here, 

returned to R , ordered this suit made, looked up the 

mute, learned that you had employed him and shadowed 
you on the day you left. Had you taken any other 
direction, I would have brought you to a stand for a 
parley. Burdotte foiled my original plan by stopping 
here. This required a reconstruction of my first scheme. 
Mr. Skaggs’ note to delay you here was written at my 
instance. His reply to your letter I now hand you ; it 
contains nothing new, but a request that you will aid me 
in whatever way I think best. 

“ I had two objects in view at the village inn in accost- 
ing you — one to arouse your curiosity and to intensify your 
interest in the matter of pursuit without prematurely 
making you a party to our project — the other, if possible, 
to try a preliminary experiment with the mute in the 


UNEXPECTED DEVELOPMENTS. 197 

way of measuring his intelligence. I was highly satisfied 
with the results attained, and purposely evaded you by 
escaping from the inn before breakfast that morning. It 
was essential to have a full and satisfactory explanation 
of Burdotte’s method in his crime — for without this an 
arrest might be environed with great difficulties. With 
this knowledge our way is certainly clearer and more 
assuring. Every shade of doubt, at least, is now removed ; 
and upon this basis we are prepared to attempt another 
feat, if necessary, that any semblance of doubt about the 
actor in the crime rendered extremely embarrassing, if 
not dangerous to undertake. Our opinion has been that 
the money, with some bonds, abstracted from the chest 
in Mr. Mullins’ room — the money which was to have 
been turned over to Mr. Straight the day after the 
murder to be employed by him, as directed by Frank — 
is secreted at Yaiden Hall.” 

There was a slight nervousness exhibited in the man- 
ner of Edmon Auley at this last statement ; and if he did 
not dare to inquire, dreading an exposure of his own 
suspicions, he felt that the detective, and, perhaps, Eldon, 
regarded the wife of Jacques Burdotte as privy to the 
secret concealed, as intimated, in Yaiden Hall. 

That Arden did suspect Mrs. Burdotte’s knowledge 
of the transaction was proved by his additional state- 
ment in speaking of the marriage of the latter with 
Captain Burdotte: 

“I can’t imagine any other reason for their union. 
There was no element of love there, certainly ; some- 
thing darker, fiercer moved that woman to consent to 
this unnatural alliance. While she probably had no 


198 


UNEXPECTED DEVELOPMENTS, 


share in concocting the deep, damning plot of robbery 
and murder, after the act might she not have discov- 
ered it? Her mother is said to be a proud, vain woman; 
and, impelled by the idea of protection from shame, or 
from a charge of complicity with a criminal, there is no 
knowing to what lengths persons of inordinate selfishness 
may go in order to prevent exposure, and to rid them- 
selves of that which might, at any time, lead to it. The 
little episode of the ball room to-night may be the pre- 
lude to the final act of an intrigue for no other purpose. 
What else can it be?” 

Edmon experienced a curious sensation at the direct- 
ness of this question. He could admit the fact of some- 
thing extraordinary urging this magnetic woman forward 
to compass one object, but an explanation of her real 
motive might involve quite a different version of the 
case. 

“We must await,” continued Arden, “the result of 
what occurs to-night between Manning and Burdotte. If 
it leads to a duel, I must find some way to extort a con- 
fession from Jacques in case he should fall. If the affair 
comes to naught, it will be necessary to adopt a new 
plan requiring sterner work. It is all-important for us 
to obtain a clue to the booty carried off, that we may 
trace it up as evidence in this matter.” 

“Suppose Burdotte does not disclose this secret, and 
the duel should prove fatal to him ? ” said Auley, think- 
ing of the target practice he had witnessed and the pre- 
cision of Manning as a marksman. 

“ In such an event we will return to B , and begin 

operations there, with Yaiden Hall as our objective 


UNEXPECTED DEVELOPMENTS. 


199 


point. I have no doubt of success, if the plunder is 
there, and that it is there I think certain.” 

During this conversation Dunny-Deaf had been in- 
tently examining the diagram and casting glances at the 
last speaker. He had drawn a curved line from the 
doorway of the house in which Mr. Mullins had been 
murdered, extending it as far as the paper would allow 
and bringing it to a stop some distance from the starting 
point on the opposite side of the drawing. When Arden 
had finished his last remarks the mute put the forefinger 
of his right hand at the point of the curved line near the 
doorway, and, placing his left hand on the detective, ran 
the forefinger around the pencil curve until it came to 
the opposite terminus where it stopped, as he looked up 
with a smile of triumph in his eyes. 

“ It indicates the direction Burdotte took when he left 
the home of Mr. Mullins that night after his work was 
done there,” said Arden. 

“ Yes,” added Frank, “the point where the pencil mark 
ceases shows the exact position of Yaiden Hall considered 
in reference to the place of murder.” 

“ It appears that we were about to overlook this 
important bit of information to be so easily obtained 
from the mute,” remarked Edmon. 

“His youth,” said Gustave, “was rather against any 
suggestion in that way. The fright a boy would natu- 
rally have experienced under the circumstances must have 
kept him from pursuing. If this lad actually followed 
up the murderer fresh from his crime on that night, he is 
a prodigy of coolness, presence of mind and heroism for 
one of his years.” 


200 


UNEXPECTED DEVELOPMENTS. 


“ He is brave and intelligent, and, if it entered his mind 
then that it was important to track the assassin in order 
to ascertain where he deposited his booty, I believe he 
had the courage to do it,” replied Frank Eldon in a tone 
of conviction. 

“ He may mean by his curved line and the signs he 
gives us in reference thereto only to indicate the residence 
of the actor in the crime,” suggested Edmon. 

“ I am rather inclined to infer that he means to convey 
a fuller impression,” said Frank, “and if so, it explains 
a matter I have thought of frequently since I heard at 
what time the murder was made public. If Burdotte 
took this track, he, at first, went directly from Vaiden 
Hall and wound around the town, coming up to the Hall 
in the rear, if we suppose, as is now almost established, 
that he conveyed his booty there that night. Dunny- 
Deafis pursuit, or shadowing, as you would call it,” 
addressing Arden, “occupied some time, because the 
person shadowed would proceed slowly with his burden 
and cautiously pick his way. The mute also undoubt- 
edly lingered in the neighborhood of Vaiden Hall, and 
may have located the precise room of deposit. Who 
knows? ” 

Arden glanced at his watch. 

“It is late,” he remarked. “We can reflect upon 
what has occurred, and get ready for a final move in 
this affair, which I think we are approaching, for I 
believe we are on the verge of a full solution.” 

The party broke up, and Edmon, with Dunny-Deaf, 
returned to his room. 


FORTUNE SMILES ON THE STRAIGHTS. 


201 


CHAPTER XX. 

FORTUNE SMILES ON THE STRAIGHTS. 

“ The web of life is of a mingled yarn.” — Shakespere. 

A MATTER of more than ordinary interest, since 
Grade’s illness, engaging Mrs. Sealey’s mind, 
brought her over to see Mrs. Straight early one morning. 
It was pretty well understood in the community that Mr. 
Lent had concluded to tender his resignation as the min- 
ister of the church to which these ladies belonged, owing 
to the seeming opposition of a majority of its member- 
ship to his scientific expositions. Many of those who 
took exception to his pulpit work put their objections as 
mildly as they could, while others did not hesitate to 
openly assert that his methods of exegesis were at open 
variance with the tenets of faith and bordered closely on 
infidelity. 

The fact was that the feeling out-cropping in this mat- 
ter had lately become serious, and that as soon as Mr. 
Lent was aware of it he had held a meeting of the 
trustees and others, and had given notice of a formal res- 
ignation that strife among brethren for opinion’s sake 
might cease. 

The minister’s action, however, had the effect of arous- 
ing his sympathizers and friends, and thus the announce- 
ment of his intention to resign, instead of removing the 
trouble, only widened the breach. 


202 FORTUNE SMILES ON THE STRAIGHTS. 

Mrs. Sealey’s feelings were very much enlisted in the 
matter, and all her sympathies were with Mr. Lent and 
his few friends. In speaking to Mrs. Straight about the 
affair at this time, she said : 

“ It is a molehill out of which Mr. Lent’s enemies are 
vainly endeavoring to make a mountain.” 

“ I did not suppose our preacher could possibly have an 
enemy in the church,” replied Mrs. Straight. 

“ I have not been at a loss to discover how this agi- 
tation arose and how it is kept up. A woman is at 
the bottom of it all.” 

“ I suspect now to whom you allude. Mr. Lent 
preached a sermon on ‘The Sacredness of the Mar- 
riage Vow,’ giving it a decidedly religious bearing. 
The discourse was delivered the Sunday following Dora 
Banks’ wedding, and my husband remarked that, though 
it was a mere coincidence and not intentionally pointed 
at any one, it would certainly give offense to Mrs. 
Banks.” 

“I was not present at the delivery of the discourse, 
but I know it created much comment on account of 
its profound learning and its remarkable character as 
a scientific exposition of a subject to which the Bible 
frequently very mysteriously alludes.” 

“Did any one interpose objections to the minister’s 
position ? ” 

“Several, and some shook their heads doubtingly. 
The other day I heard a lady remark that Mrs. Banks 
would never get over the insult she imagined had been 
offered to her in that sermon, and that she would not 
rest until she had accomplished the downfall of the min- 


FORTUNE SMILES ON THE STRAIGHTS. 203 

ister. It was that remark which made me somewhat 
inquisitive when I found this matter assuming a formi- 
dable and serious aspect, and I soon unearthed the secret 
spring of the whole movement. Mrs. Banks is nothing 
if not dramatic. She poses amid the brilliancy of her 
wit. With the aid of her adjutant, Mrs. Toll, who is 
very much like her, she has created quite an impression 
against Mr. Lent.” 

“ I should regret to see this conspiracy succeed, both 
because Mr. Lent has become doubly endeared to us of 
late and on account of his gentle wife whom we all 
love.” 

Mrs. Sealey’s object in calling on her friend was 
speedily explained, and it was arranged that they should 
visit the parsonage together that afternoon. 

There had been quite an affecting scene at the home 
of the minister that morning. Mrs. Sealey had been 
present, and several other ladies had called to make 
inquiries. Some of the details of this scene were given 
by Mrs. Toll, who had stopped at the parsonage very 
early the same morning, just before the affair happened. 
On her return home, as Yaiden Hall was not far out of 
the way, she called on Mrs. Banks, who had apparently 
quite recovered from her attack of hysteria. 

“ A fine boy, and Mr. Lent is really proud of him ! ” 
ejaculated Mrs. Toll, as she met her friend in the hall- 
way. “He actually had the child weighed. You will 
hardly believe it, but it pulled down the scales at eleven 
pounds ! Such a time as we had ! ” 

“What frivolity!” 

“Mr. Lent was very kind and attentive to his wife, 


204 FORTUNE SMILES ON THE STRAIGHTS. 

I must do him that justice. It was a terrible time! 
Mrs. Lent — poor thing! The doctor was quite dis- 
turbed about her case. Intense anxiety was pictured 
upon the pale face of the husband; every one pitied 
him; and what do you think? When the child was 
born, it was dead!” 

“Really!” exclaimed Mrs. Banks ; “that was a scene, 
and Mr. Lent, you say, was proud of his dead child 
and actually weighed it ? ” 

“I meant to say that the infant did not cry, and it 
was some time before the doctor — but I believe it was 
Mrs. Sealey who brought the child to life.” 

“ Remarkable ! ” interposed Mrs. Banks at the state- 
ment which brought Mrs. Sealey upon the scene. 

“We had all been in tears ” 

“ Why, you quite surprise me,” again interrupted 
Mrs. Banks. 

“But when that lady showed the boy to his father 
alive, Mr. Lent seemed to be overpowered with joy. He 
kissed his wife, spoke affectionally and encouragingly 
to her, and for the first time I saw him smile ; it was 
like a ray of sunshine from out the thick gloom hover- 
ing about him.” 

“ Mr. Lent is a great actor. I think he is better 
adapted, by reason of his peculiar talent for arousing 
sympathy and causing sensations, for the stage than the 
pulpit. I am, however, glad for his wife’s sake that the 
scene, which appears to have been very affecting, ter- 
minated so favorably.” 

“ You would have wept if you had been there.” 

“ I do not doubt it, but I think my sympathy would 


FORTUNE SMILES ON THE STRAIGHTS. 


205 


not have inclined so much toward Mr. Lent ; he should 
not have had a monopoly of the interest manifested.” 

Mrs. Toll felt the bitter irony of her friend in every 
remark she made, but did not exhibit a disposition to 
bandy repartee, or to indulge in sarcastic display, at 
this time. In taking leave of Mrs. Banks, she asked : 

“ Shall I call for you this afternoon on my return to 
the parsonage?” 

“ Of course. I shall be glad to accompany you there. 
Mrs. Lent is entitled to all the sympathy we can show 
her, especially in a situation that augments her trouble.” 

“ I never saw more kindness and anxiety in my life 
than her husband displayed during the crisis.” 

“I think I understand you, and the result was a 
shower of tears, as you have intimated.” 

“ His exhibition of feeling was real and touched every 
one present.” 

“ Mrs. Toll with the rest ! I am satisfied now of the 
genuineness of his performance.” 

‘‘Nothing but a, heart of stone could have resisted it.” 

“ Truly, I am not unimpressionable. I must believe 
the occasion extraordinary that drew such attention, 
and I do not doubt the impressiveness of the scene as 
you describe it.” 

Mrs. Toll was slightly ruffled. Mrs. Banks’ arrogance 
and cool reception of this information awakened a feeling 
akin to resentment in her bosom that, perhaps, only 
needed to be stimulated to develop into open opposition. 

They visited the parsonage together that afternoon 
and found several of their friends there, callers like 
themselves, engaged in conversation in the parlor, 


206 FORTUNE SMILES ON THE STRAIGHTS. 

several of whom had been very conspicuous and out- 
spoken in their adverse criticism of the preacher’s 
peculiar and progressive theology. 

On entering the chamber of Mrs. Lent to pay her 
respects and to inquire personally after her health, 
Mrs. Banks stepped up to the bedside, stiff, as usual, 
in her fashionable display, and, with that feeling of 
assurance characteristic of almost every one of recog- 
nized influence and leadership, extended her hand to 
the young mother lying there, pillowed beneath the 
white folds of drapery which hung about her, with 
the new-born joy near her bosom. Mrs. Lent did not 
accept the proffered hand, made no response to the 
sympathy expressed, and the lofty Mrs. Banks retired 
to an open window with a sense of chargrin which 
implied defeat and humiliation. This scene, slight as 
it may seem, was significant. Mrs. Toll, who had fol- 
lowed her friend to the bedside, had observed it and 
its effect, and what was even more significant was the 
fact that she experienced a feeling of pleasure at this 
intentional rebuke offered to the mistress of Yaiden Hall. 

Mrs. Banks shortly afterwards withdrew, but Mrs. Toll 
remained. There was a motive in the latter’s action. 
By a mere chance she had conceived the idea of dropping 
in at the parsonage that morning in passing, though it 
appeared to be an actual call of sympathy occasioned by 
Mrs. Lent’s situation. The crisis aroused her better feel- 
ings and brought tears to her eyes, so wrought upon was 
she by the affecting circumstances. Mrs. Sealey had wit- 
nessed her display of sympathy and interest, and had 
given it the credit of being genuine. 


FORTUNE SMILES ON THE STRAIGHTS. 207 

In the afternoon Mrs. Toll made her presence beara- 
ble — nothing more. Her motive can be gathered from 
this. Beneath her folly and vanity lay a great deal of 
shrewd sense, which seldom had an opportunity to crop 
out. She now saw the clouds of dissension rising in 
society and determined to plant herself on neutral ground. 
Perhaps she had been canvassing popular sentiment in 
her set, and, like a shrewd politician, wished to place 
herself “on the fence” to watch the contesting factions 
until their true strength could be ascertained, in order 
“ to flop over ” at the propitious moment to the winning 
side. But it was a fact that her prejudices had been 
slightly stirred against Mrs. Banks by the latter herself, 
while, on the other hand, her feelings had been touched 
with a warmer sentiment for the Lents. The church 
affair would develop something, and there was very 
little certainty in regard to the strength of the minis- 
ter’s opponents. Society had really become disturbed 
about the matter, and its influence weighed a great 
deal as an outside pressure in directing materias eccle - 
siae. The Straights, once the most influential family 
in the town, appeared to be again assuming a position 
of strength. This family, however, be it understood, 
was not obtrusive in any way, and its head acted as 
if altogether ignorant of the struggle in progress. 

Notwithstanding Mrs. Toll’s nature had been so 
warped by education and association that she was even 
now in a great measure propelled by a misguided force 
in considering self-interest, yet an element had been 
aroused in her mind, not rendered altogether callous by 
the causes allued to, that must have its due weight in her 


208 


FORTUNE SMILES ON THE STRAIGHTS. 


"behalf. Her sympathy for Mr. Lent was sincere, and 
only required Mrs. Banks 7 sarcastic words to give it the 
advantage by producing a small amount of wholesome 
reflection, which finally led her to consider more closely 
the prospective result of the growing society antago- 
nism in R . 

With all the adroitness she could command, Mrs. Toll 
endeavored to produce a kindly impression at the par- 
sonage that afternoon, and not without effect, for Mrs. 
Sealey hailed all accessions from the circle of Mrs. Banks 
with affability, as at present they would be useful. 

Mrs. Sealey accompanied Mrs. Straight home from the 
parsonage. By virtue of a previous understanding, Flora 
went with the former to the mansion. 

That afternoon Mr. Straight had brought a letter 
from the post-office for Flora, which proved to be from 
Edmon Auley. As a matter-of-course, the young girl 
opened it with considerable trepidation. For an instant 
her heart almost ceased beating. The epistle consisted of 
only a single paragraph, and read as follows : 

“ Miss Flora : On that beautiful moonlight evening 
when you sent me away with emotions of such a con- 
flicting nature, I was not unconscious that I was the 
victim of a misconception. I denied the logic which 
separated us, and which you advanced to cheat us of our 
right to be happy. My overture on that occasion was 
the truest test of my affection ; my love was not to be 
changed by such conditions as you acted on. I possessed, 
by your gift, a sacred right to call you my own. I 
expected to demand of you a reversal of your act, but 


FORTUNE SMILES ON THE STRAIGHTS. 209 

amid other circumstances my resolution was delayed. 
Perhaps your judgment was correct, and I am unworthy 
of one so pure as yourself. But it pains me to think 
thus and to cancel what I once claimed as a right. 

“ Edmon.” 

This note led to a misconception in Flora’s mind and 
tortured her pure feelings. 

“Amid other circumstances” his purpose had been 
“ delayed.” These “circumstances” had begun at Yaiden 
Hall on the night of the revel there, when Dora Banks 
threw her charms around him for the first time 1 He 
was yet floating on the sea of her witchery and still 
yielded to her fascinations which wafted him on and on. 

There was a twinge of conscience running through 
Flora’s reflections that disturbed her. Had her own 
act no part in this matter? Did not Edmon fly from 
her cruelty to become the ready victim of another? 
Had she not challenged his truth and constancy and 
ruthlessly driven him forth to seek relief in others’ 
smiles ? In an agony of spirit, with an unselfish chiding 
of her own heart, Flora disconsolately drew upon her 
imagination to weave a woe from fancy’s web. Her 
thoughts turned to Mrs. Sealey. That experienced lady 
could comfort her ; but she dare not venture such confi- 
dence — it was too embarrassing to trust beyond the 
portals of her own soul ; her lips must be forever sealed. 
Even those dearest to her must never know how 
wretched the void created within had made her. 

At the supper table that evening the following conver- 
sation took place between Mr. Straight and his family : 


210 FORTUNE SMILES ON THE STRAIGHTS. 

“I am glad, Ellen,” said Mr. Straight, “to observe 
your old feeling returning. The night on which I an- 
nounced my failure was a dark one to you, and the fol- 
lowing day brought no clearing ; the shadow was, indeed, 
made deeper by the terrible event which occurred. But 
the darkness is passing off; the day is breaking, and soon 
the sun will shine brightly upon us again.” 

Mr. Straight had just come home from Mr. Skaggs’ 
office. The lawyer had sent for him that afternoon. 
The hot rolls and smoking coffee prepared by Gracie and 
her sister were awaiting his coming, and he admitted 
that his appetite was unusually good. 

“ If we go back to the mansion to live,” he said, “ what 
will be your gain will be my loss ! ” 

A fond but rather doleful look accompanied these 
words. 

“ Why, James ? ” inquired his wife. 

“ My plain, healthful fare and your good cooking will 
become things of the past! Indeed, if it were not for 
the joy I experience at your relief and prospective re- 
turn to your proper station, I should be quite miserable 
in view of the expected change ! I am, perhaps, selfish, 
but I dread it as it is.” 

Mrs. Straight sighed. She, too, had begun to be 
charmed by their more humble style of living. Her 
husband observed this. 

“After all,” he said, “there is less difference in the 
amount of happiness allotted to positions in life than peo- 
ple imagine. We are to a very large extent creatures of 
habit, and somehow or other can, if we will, fit ourselves 
to our circumstances, though in our aspirations we strive 


FORTUNE SMILES ON THE STRAIGHTS. 211 

to improve tlie latter, as I believe we should do. When 
the change comes our old ways and habits will come with 
it, and, doubtless, when we are once more fitted to them 
we will look back upon this episode in our lives and 
wonder how we ever could have been contented with and 
have submitted to our present condition.” 

“Under the happy inspiration of anticipation,” said 
Gracie, “I notice, mother, you are looking greatly im- 
proved.” 

“Yes; it is the pleasing suggestions of anticipation 
for my children.” 

“ You will cease to be a mere housekeeper and resume 
the routine of fashion again,” remarked Mr. Straight, as 
he once more ruefully regarded the hot rolls and steam- 
ing coffee. 

“From which we retrograded recently, you think,” 
suggested Gracie, with a merry twinkle in her eyes. 

“ But,” said the mother, “ we will carry our experience 
with us. I confess that I have learned much more of 
what constitutes real happiness here than I could ever 
have known without this experience. Never again can 
I be such a slave to fashion as I once was. I absolutely 
did not appreciate the true sources of joy.” 

“Well, Ellen, you have not asked me what has come 
over the dream of my expected indulgence in your hot 
rolls and the coffee you know so well how to prepare ! ” 

“ Why should I look for anything unusual from your 
outburst now? You have been at this for some weeks! 
Several times has my pity been excited by the doleful 
faces you have made at the prospect of losing the com- 
forts of this home.” 

13 


212 FORTUNE SMILES ON THE STRAIGHTS. 

“Just so! When you were all filled with anxiety 
and despondency at your unhappy fate, I would cheer 
you up.” 

“How courageous you were, indeed! You had the 
buoyant explanations of Mr. Skaggs to float on, while the 
rest of us were floundering in deep water, with not even 
a chip of the truth to hold on to until Mrs. Sealey came 
to our rescue, good woman as she is.” 

“Well, I am floating now on another of Skaggs’ 
explanations, in which you are more directly interested 
than myself; but before I speak of it, I wish to say 
there is one mystery about the management of my 
affairs which I do not understand and concerning which 
Skagg has, up to this time, preserved a tantalizing 
silence. I refer to the fact of his settlements with my 
creditors. How has the man been able to manage this ? 
I am sure the bonds obtained by Frank of your uncle 
have not been used for this purpose. I have had a 
suspicion that that remarkable woman is at the bottom 
of the whole thing. Skaggs appears to be pretty much 
under her control. Her deportment here and the affec- 
tion ^she manifests for the girls have exercised my mind 
in a very singular manner. Her thorough knowledge of 
Frank’s movements and acquaintance with the operations 
between him and Skaggs combine to make her a sub- 
ject of interesting speculation in my mind ” 

“ Quite an open confession,” interrupted Gracie, laugh- 
ing. “ Mr. Skaggs might become jealous if he knew 
that. How do you feel about it, mother ? ” 

Mr. Straight joined his wife and Gracie in the hearty 
amusement his remark produced, but, for the life of him 


/ FORTUNE SMILES ON THE STRAIGHTS. 213 

as he said, he couldn’t imagine what the laugh could 
he about. 

“But,” he continued, “I intended to add that my 
suspicion grows stronger every day that the lawyer is 
only acting for her — that, in fact, she has been and is 
reconstructing Frank’s as well as my own business for us.” 

“Flora believes Mrs. Sealey is only engaged in de- 
tective work, and says that she even admitted to her 
that in some way she was connected with such a service,” 
remarked Gracie. 

“ She came here in company with a detective ; but if 
she bears no other relation to our affairs than that, it 
spoils my theory, and I must think that Frank has 
been successful in raising means and is privately oper- 
ating through Skaggs in rearranging our buisness.” 

“That’s the most probable inference,” said Mrs. 
Straight. 

“But do you know that I believe she has detected 
Skaggs’ vulnerableness and that he has fallen a victim to 
her artifice, or her grand nature, whichever you choose 
to call it ? ” 

“Grand nature! Never on earth has any one had 
more claim to it ! She is as noble as she is charming 
and winning. She is the victim, if any one is victim- 
ized ! ” exclaimed Gracie, enthusiastically. 

“ I have seen more of the best side of human nature 
recently than in all my life before. Skaggs is a tower 
of moral strength and great in intellect. I should, per- 
haps, never have known what a fund of sympathy 
and goodness of heart could be encased in mortal flesh, 
if I had not been made to see it by misfortune.” 


214 


FORTUNE SMILES ON THE STRAIGHTS. 


“The information you impart will be pleasant to 
Flora,” said Grade. 

“ Why?” 

“ Because she has been very much troubled about Mrs. 
Sealey leaving us and returning to New York.” 

“ She has won my children’s affections also, it 
appears.” 

“There, Gracie, you and Flora must plead guilty. 
We have not been unconscious of your increasing attach- 
ment for Mrs. Sealey, and she has endeared herself to us 
all. We will not part with her without a struggle. We 
should be entirely ungrateful, indeed, if we did not hold 
her friendship and kindness in the highest esteem. No 
sister could have been tenderer to me, or more solici- 
tous for my welfare than she has been during our brief 
acquaintance. If she leaves us, the parting will be a 
sad one to me also.” 

Mrs. Straight spoke feelingly, and it was evident that 
she felt the deepest interest in the subject of her remarks. 
Her husband noticed how strongly she was affected, and, 
"by way of sympathy and encouragement, said : 

“ Don’t let us take the idea of a separation from so 
dear a friend so seriously ; but let us rather hope that 
Skaggs will be as successful in her direction as it seems 
he is about to be in all others, and then he will make 
our debt of gratitude double. I do not question the fact 
that they are engaged.” 

“ Why, James, you do not really believe that?” inqui- 
ringly and rather doubtingly exclaimed his wife. 

“ I do, for I rallied him a little on the subject, and, in 
his matter-of-fact way, he asked me what you would 


FORTUNE SMILES ON THE STRAIGHTS. 215 

think of his keeping the lady here, and if he might 
depend on your influence to uphold him in his choice.” 

u He tried to be witty, which is a very good sign ; but 
as he has never given much attention to matrimony, per- 
haps he really thinks that he may be made the subject 
of undue comment in society, a dread of which often 
hangs like a nightmare over the mind of some men, 
causing them to shun marriage. If this has been the 
case with Mr. Skaggs, I do hope that our friend has dis- 
pelled his fears and that the match is assured.” 

“ The prospect is promising in that respect,” replied 
her husband, “ but not more so than in another. The 
two railroads, spoken of so much, to run through our 
county, have, at last, located, and these lines intersect 

here. A land company has been organized in R , 

and I have an offer from it for your thirty acres. Skaggs 
advises us not to sell now. The railroads will want your 
land and will outbid all other parties for it, so you are 
certain to get a good price. The town is now having a 
boom, and as there is no better spot in R or its im- 

mediate vicinity than this, it is bound to be in demand. 
There is a fortune in this tract for building purposes. 
Skaggs says you may expect to be interviewed by any 
number of speculators looking around here in a few days.” 

The little property of Mrs. Straight at once rose to 
immense value. As a real estate owner the latter was on 
the point of becoming one of the richest ladies of the 
prospective metropolis, for she held a good title to at least 
one-fourth of the ground upon which the coming city 
must be reared. As it were, she sat at the very gate 
through which Fortune must pass. 


216 


SOME COMFORT FOE FLORA. 


CHAPTER XXI. 

SOME COMFOET FOR FLORA. 

T HERE was an inexpressibly sad look upon Flora’s 
countenance the afternoon she accompanied Mrs. 
Sealey borne from the parsonage. The latter noticed 
her dejected appearance and thought as they entered 
the mansion : 

“ Her feelings are depressed about something ; there 
is evidently a burden hanging heavily on her heart.” 

Flora’s music, too, that afternoon, came first in soft 
notes, like a lover’s complainings or despairing wailings. 
First, the measured, plaintive tones of the instrument, 
merging into a murmuring requiem; then, words ex- 
pressive of the heart’s emotion, as persuasive as echoes 
from dreamland and indicative of the soul’s indescri- 
bable agony. 

Mrs. Sealey had quitted the room for awhile, but 
when she returned she stood immediately in the doorway 
of the hall, and then, advancing to the piano, bent over 
Flora, kissing her on the cheek. The young girl blushed. 
She thought that one as gifted, as her friend seemed to be, 
in comprehending the mysterious, might suspect the 
secret inspiration of the music; for the first time she 
was conscious of having made the instrument responsive 
to the state of her own troubled and disconsolate spirit. 
Mrs. Sealey simply thanked Flora for the exquisite 


SOME COMFORT FOR FLORA. 


217 


harmony which had drawn her from some household 
duties for the moment, and, after making her excuses, 
again withdrew, promising to return shortly and express- 
ing the hope that her visitor would amuse herself in the 
meantime. 

Flora left the instrument and went to a window in the 
next room that opened upon a view across the western 
hills. She leaned over the sill and gazed upon the varie- 
gated beauty of the distant sky. The sun was hanging 
low, and its rays lined the edges of the clouds, gathered 
above and on either side, with tints of gold. The scene 
was grandly inspiring. No painter’s touches, however 
sublime his genius, she thought, could paint such a pic- 
ture as that drawn upon the azure heights. There were 
palaces, whose bronze walls stretched aloft, turretted, 
steepled, and surmounted by golden towers and pinnacles, 
whose silver head linings, in magnificant contrast with 
every color and shade, and ribbed bases, flashing in the 
full red glare of the sun’s royal setting, reminded her of 
the saints’ rest. Her heart throbbed with emotion all 
inexplicable to her as her imagination, inspired by the 
glory within sight, spread before her mind’s eye a daz- 
zling delineation of the everlasting abode of Heaven’s 
blest inhabitants, of which, she thought, nature and art, 
combined are, perhaps, intended to convey a faint con- 
ception in their grandest displays, and yet of whose 
beauty and perfection no fitting description can be given 
by human tongue. 

How long she stood thus gazing at the west and medi- 
tating she knew not, but tears had gathered in her eyes 
as her thoughts recurred to the past, when she had stood 


218 


SOME COMFORT FOR FLORA. 


at this window with her face half-buried in the lace cur- 
tains, either waiting in happy anticipation, or, as often, 
not alone, plucking the flowers just below or that trailed 
along the wall. It was a spot sacred to the memories of 
bliss that had gone from her forever. 

Mrs. Sealey, however, was now by her side and saw 
the telltale drops on her eye-lids. 

“ My dear child,” she said, “ your heart is sad ; there is 
a grief gnawing at it. The roses have faded from your 
fair cheeks and the bright sparkle I used to see in your 
eyes is absent from them. Whose hand is thus cruelly 
smiting you and blasting your young hopes ? ” 

There was an ineffable tenderness in these words. Flora 
felt herself yielding ; but her head was pillowed on the 
bosom of one she had learned to love, and from whom 
she no longer tried to disguise the warmth of her affec- 
tion. 

11 Oh ! my dear Mrs. Sealey,” exclaimed the weeping 
girl, “ my hopes are dead ! He is lost to me — but it is 
too dreadful to tell ! ” 

“ I understand it in part, Flora, and you can tell me the 
rest without any breach of confidence. You love Edmon 
Auley ; perhaps pledges had already been made between 
you when you forbade his attentions to you out of regard 
for his social position and the feelings of his friends, on 
account of the change in your own relation to society 
here ; and Edmon left you with a mind full of misgivings. 
Circumstances became such as to strengthen his doubt ; 
or, if not, he threw himself in the way of such conditions 
as would give relief to his mind. There is no way of 
guessing exactly how he was moved ; but one thing is 


SOME COMFORT FOR FLORA. 


219 


certain — he fell under the influence of the charms of 
another. 

“ He did not, perhaps, intend to forsake you, nor did he 
wish to forget his first vows, yet, on seeking to find peace 
for his troubled mind by restraining the feeling awakened 
by you in his heart, he yielded to another’s arts and fas- 
cinations, at first for a pastime merely; but, strange as it 
may appear, he did not understand his own too ardent 
nature. It was youth, inexperienced youth ; nothing more. 
What was accepted only as a relief from the perplex- 
ities of a chafing mind was transformed into a real 
pleasure and recklessly wooed as such. He became infat- 
uated, and blindly rushed on. You have recently heard 
that Edmon is at the Springs, and your lively imagina- 
tion whispers into a willing ear the old story of a lover’s 
unfaithfulness. Is it not so ? ” 

“ Not altogether ; I have his own words. I doubted 
his faithfulness but once — when you related the incident 
involving their raptures at the party; you remember it, 
do you not ? ” 

“ Yes ; but I alluded to her fascinations, not Edmon’s 
raptures, though I thought then that he was the object 
for whom her charms were displayed. I could not doubt 
the meaning of the bay-window scene, and I now believe 
the scheme was a device of hers. I discovered your 
secret by relating the incident.” 

“ I should not have been so embarrassed, if I had not 
heard from the lips of Dora Banks the same story just 
an hour or so before — only she laid great stress upon 
Edmon’s part in the affair. All this, however, might 
have been taken with a great deal of allowance, as 


220 


SOME COMFORT FOR FLORA. 


intended to tease me, if I had not met Mr. Auley going 
into the square, where I had just left her, and heard from 
you the incident that she gave the greatest emphasis 
to. But the doubt raised by these, and all other circum- 
stances, was dissipated by the marriage of Dora and 
Captain Burdotte, and I really chided myself for even 
indulging in so unkind a thought of Edmon as to suspect 
him of more than a courtesy to Dora. But while I had 
no reason to condemn his course, whatever might have 
been his feelings toward Miss Banks, I now tremble for 
him in the light of the circumstances you and Dora 
related, and what I witnessed. When I heard that he 
was at the Springs, and that Captain and Mrs. Burdotte 
were also there, although I sought to stifle my suspicions, 
I was troubled, anxious and fearful. Notwithstanding he 
is no longer a suitor, I can never fail to regard him with 
the strongest feelings of interest for his welfare and hap- 
piness. His brief note cast a dark shadow over all hope, 
and seemed to turn my worst fears into reality.” 

Mrs. Sealey listened to this frank statement with much 
concern. 

“ Perhaps,” she said, “ you place too great a stress upon 
his note. Have you it with you, and would you object 
to my reading his words — his very words? ” 

“ No. You may as well become acquainted with the 
sequel as he penned it, since you already know enough 
to remove any idea of the abuse of his confidence by 
me.” 

Flora drew Edmon’s note from her bosom. The 
paper was rumpled. How often had it been read ? It 
was stained. How often had it been wept over ? After 


SOME COMFORT FOR FLORA. 


221 


persual Mrs. Sealey returned it, remarking, as slie 
&id so: 

“ The closing sentences are expressions almost any 
youth of ardent feelings, under an unusual impulse, 
might erroneously use, without weighing the full import 
of his language. Perhaps the writer did not even imagine 
his words might be construed in the light of other cir- 
cumstances.” 

With a clear conception of the inner springs which 
move the emotions and stir the secret resources of the 
heart to give utterance to its agitated voice, as it calls for 
help amid the gloom of despair, or when bereft of hope, 
and acting upon the hypothetical suggestion that Edmon 
Auley belonged to a class of young men whose natures 
are too sensitive not to feel stung at the slightest depart- 
ure from what appears to be a correct course, Mrs. Sealey 
resolved to venture on the brightest side in the interpre- 
tation of the words of the note, and thus softly breathed 
into Flora’s ears the language of comfort and hope : 

“The associations of your gentle confidence, your 
purity and lovely innocence, my child, in contrast with 
his own presumptuous daring and instability, magnify his 
offence and cause the qualms of a bitter remorse to a mind 
not callous to the smallest errors or indiscretions, and, in 
a fit of desperate despondency, approaching madness, and 
under the impulses of his excited state, he wrote those 
unmeaning words. It is for you to break the spell and 
to convince him that true repentance purifies the soul.” 

Mrs. Banks returned to Yaiden Hall that afternoon in 
anything but a pleasant humor. Indeed, she was in a 
state of mind bordering on a return of her dementia. 


222 


SOME COMFORT FOR FLORA. 


Chagrined by the nnlooked-for rebuff she had received at 
the parsonage from Mrs. Lent, and deeply perplexed by 
a conflict of emotion, agitated by the suggestions of the 
conversation with Mrs. Toll in the morning, she was 
more conscious than ever that the phantom was still pur- 
suing her. It was a permanent visitor of dread, either 
constantly following in her footsteps, or haunting her 
sleep in weird dreams. 

The fact, made known to her by Dora’s letters, that 
Edmon Auley was at the Springs had been a source of 
intense anxiety to her for some time, and this anxiety was 
increased by the additional information that he remained 
there. On this subject her daughter’s letters were rather 
indefinite, containing usually only a brief reference to it. 
It was quite evident, however, that Dora sought to detain 
Edmon at the Springs. 

The mistress of Yaiden Hall made strenuous efforts to 
shake off her feelings of gloom and overcome the incli- 
nation of her mind to dwell upon distressing themes, but 
all her attempts were rendered utterly abortive by a 
never-ending train of circumstances. She was a victim 
to harrowing and distracting thoughts. Mrs. Toll had 
raised a dreadful suspicion in her mind, connected with 
Dora’s reference to the silent witness and the secret of the 
room known as Jacques’, more distressing than all her 
other mental burdens. 

Yaiden Hall itself was becoming a terror to her. The 
trees around it looked like huge spectres amid the 
shadows of night, or beneath the star-beams. The rooms 
were out of style, with nothing inviting about them. The 
drapery and furniture heightened their appearance of 


SOME COMFORT FOR FLORA. 


223 


mourning gloom. Everything wore a sepulchral aspect, 
forbidding and repellant. 

Mrs. Banks’ fancies were evidently rapidly resuming 
the wild and unnatural shape into which they had fallen 
a few days before, and which had resulted in the delirium 
her physician had pronounced hysteria. If hysteria, the 
complaint was beginning to tighten its grasp upon her, 
and what the effect of her present mental state might 
have been, had not Mrs. Toll called at the Hall after she 
left the parsonage, can readily be imagined. 

It is said that our lives often hang upon a thread. Per- 
haps Mrs. Banks’ sanity temporarily hinged on as small a 
matter as this incident of her friend’s momentary call. It 
was a relief and brought the mistress of Yaiden Hall back 
to her normal self. Before departing, Mrs. Toll lightly 
touched the old sore and left it angry, if not so severely 
painful as it had been. In this she actually did her friend 
a service, for, in renewing her envy and selfish pride, she 
produced a counter-irritant that absolutely, for the time 
being, dispelled the morbid feelings so conducive to the 
progress of her dementia. 

“ I had almost forgotten,” said Mrs. Toll, “to tell you 
that the railroad men are here, and the surveys cross at a 
point near the Straights’ place.” 

“ Indeed ! ” There was simply an attempt to express 
surprise. Mrs. Banks did not catch the idea suggested by 
this piece of information. She was dull this time, very 
much so, and her evident lack of interest in this state- 
ment proved it. 

“ There is considerable talk about these new enter- 
prises,” resumed Mrs. Toll. “At the stores where I 


224 


SOME COMFORT FOR FLORA. 


stopped every one appeared to be discussing the rail- 
roads.” 

“ Really ! I suppose everybody expects a free ride ! ” 

This remark was truly like the mistress of Vaiden 
Hall, and indicated a return to herself once more. 

“ La me ! no ; it’s the improvement to our town and the 
enhanced valuation of property produced by such enter- 
prises in localities through which they pass that cause so 
much interest and talk. I heard a gentleman say he 
would give in cash fifteen thousand dollars for Mrs. 

Straight’s chances of being the richest lady in R . 

Some one laughed and replied that she already had an 
offer of twenty thousand dollars from the new land com- 
pany, but that Skaggs advised her to hold all the rail- 
roads didn’t purchase, and to lease or sell it in lots.” 

Here was a new theme for Mrs. Banks to meditate 
upon, and for the present, at least, the phantom, which 
had been thrusting its ghastly and menacing visage before 
her, was exorcised by the dread of the rising influence of 
her old rival. 


A NEW MOVE. 


225 


CHAPTER XXII. 

A NEW MOVE. 

“ The noble nature within him stirred .” — John 0. Whittier. 

O N" the morning after the scenes of the ball room 
Gustave Arden rose and went out early, and it 
was not long before he gathered the little news afloat. 
He knew just where to go to learn all the current 
gossip. 

“What is it now? ” he asked of the barber, after the 
tonsorial artist had shaved him and brushed his hair. 

“The Captain has got in trouble about his pretty 
wife.” 

“A duel or what?” 

“I guess it’s pistols and coffee for two.” 

“ When?” 

“ To-morrow about dawn.” 

Arden next proceeded to the bar-room. There the 
subject was only briefly alluded to. Mrs. Burdotte 
appeared to have the sympathies of the genteel ruffians 
who lounged about the place at that hour, several of 
whom seemed yet to be lingering on the brink of their 
previous evening’s debauch. In the conversation Man- 
ning and Burdotte both came in for their share of crit- 
icism as the champions of honor and beauty. 

“If they would only remove each other to make 
room for a suitable aspirant to the lady’s favors, there 
would be some sense in it!” 


226 


A NEW MOVE. 


The speaker, like all of his class, showed an inordi- 
nate quantity of vanity and self-esteem. 

“ It would be impossible to compute the number of 
duels likely to result from the conflict of claims urged 
in that event,” added some one else. 

This remark created a little mirth, and the parties 
went up to the bar to take a friendly drink. 

Having obtained all the information to be acquired 
there, Gustave Arden turned on his heel and walked 
away. 

The sun was tolerably high in the heavens, and Arden 
knew that if he did not speedily find the object of his 
search, early drinking would, in all probability, foil his 
design with him. Captain Burdotte would hardly fail 
to be well loaded before mid-day with intoxicating fluids. 
In fact, he believed that an effort would be made to 
keep the parties in training, by the excitement of stimu- 
lants, for the affair of the next morning. 

He discovered Burdotte in the reading-room and ap- 
proached him in his usual affable way. 

“Good morning, Captain,” he said, familiarly, as he 
took up a newspaper and seated himself close to Bur- 
dotte, who barely noticed the greeting. Gustave, noth- 
ing daunted, continued: “Not many astir after last 
evening’s revels. By the way, you administered a whole- 
some rebuke to that impertinent fellow ! ” 

Captain Burdotte fixed his dark eyes on the speaker, 
who further pressed the subject by remarking : 

“There is no noise about it. Had you blown Man- 
ning’s brains out on the spot, no one could have found 
fault with your act.” 


A NEW MOVE. 227 

i. 

11 Then I am justified,” replied the Captain, who now 
seemed to be somewhat interested. 

Arden instantly noted this favorable sign and pro- 
ceeded : 

“ I rather suspected this would be the end of it.” 

“ Why, what do you mean, Arden? ” 

“ As a man of honor you cannot fail to comprehend 
me. I do not desire a misapprehension. I seek no 
duels with my friends.” 

“But you must speak out; you have committed 
yourself thrice.” 

“ I offer you a thousand apologies. I simply supposed 
you understood my allusion to the complication involved 
in this affair, and that an explanation would not be 
called for. The matter is a delicate one and does not 
need further comment. I was led into the error of 
alluding to the subject by the course you took last 
evening.” 

“ Did you not understand that I withdrew my wife 
from the ball room to protect her against Manning’s im- 
pertinence ? ” 

“No. To be frank with you, Captain Burdotte, I 
believed you were not so much resenting an imperti- 
nence to Mrs. Burdotte as an insult to your own honor. 
I would have had to close my eyes to have reached any 
other conclusion.” 

“ How do others understand it ? ” 

“Perhaps as you would have it understood.” 

“ Then enough has been said. You alone comprehend 
me, perhaps. My wife’s flirtation involves my honor, 
and for that, according to the code, I must risk my life 
14 


228 


A NEW MOVE. 


in the attempt to take that of another ; but I simply 
resented that fellow’s insults in the billiard saloon, which 
I considered personal. I regret now that I did not chas- 
tise him on the spot.” 

Gustave Arden had become familiar with Captain Bur- 
dotte. The present interview, however, was a delicate 
undertaking. It involved a question he wished decided, 
as in the furtherance of his plans he desired all the 
knowledge he could get bearing upon the motives and 
actions of the parties he was shadowing. He believed 
that Burdotte was entirely estranged from his wife, that 
he was only acting a part, and that, sooner or later, there 
would be an open rupture between them ; .but he did not 
wish to display a suspicion that Mrs. Burdotte was carry- 
ing on an intrigue with Manning. He intended, as a last 
resort, to use this suspicion, if it existed in the mind of 
the husband and the circumstances became such as to 
warrant him in utilizing it, to further his object. 

Arden knew Burdotte’s character too well to attribute 
to him any motive in the affair of honor other than the 
gratification of revenge — the incentive of the ruffian, the 
inspiration of the desperado. His education and 
associations in life, undoubtedly, had been such as to fit 
him for desperate deeds and dangerous exploits. In this 
matter he was only simulating a man of honor. 

After breakfast that morning Gustave went to Edmon 
Auley’s room. 

“ I have news for you,” he said, as soon as he was 
seated. 

u I suspected you would come loaded down, as I saw 
you moving about so early,” remarked Auley. 


A NEW MOVE. 


229 


“Well, it is to come off to-morrow, just as we 
thought.” 

“ Then we are rapidly approaching the last chapter in 
our story.” 

“ Yes ; and the only point that deeply interests me now 
is whether our hero must quit the scene carrying with 
him, wrapped in eternal mystery, the main features of 
the plot. I don’t fancy such work. In this story I want 
a substantial reality, with a full confession, and I have 
been toiling to that end. I found Captain Burdotte 
quite lucid this morning. I pray that Manning may not 
snuff him out too suddenly. I have great hopes that he 
will ultimately disgorge his secret to deprive his wife of 
the proceeds of his villainy. I believe the man now only 
moodily endures her for his own safety. She has kindled 
his hatred and kept it fanned to prevent his encroachments, 
for I am sure she loathes him. The depths of some 
female minds I cannot fathom ; but she holds sufficient 
power over the Captain to prevent a rupture until her 
scheme is ripe. However, speculations mean nothing in 
this affair. We must act upon reasonable inferences, 
with the light of such facts as we have. If Burdotte 
escapes the lead of Manning’s pistol, I shall arrest him at 
once, and end this job. I have the necessary papers and 
authority to do so. In the meantime Eldon and myself 
have decided that it is necessary for you to go to R — — .” 

Edmon had sat quietly listening to the detective, as he 
probed down deep into the mysterious motive of Mrs. 
Burdotte’s action, and he wondered at the man’s keen 
insight into human character. What Arden had said 
was as true as if it had been actually revealed to him, 


230 


A NEW MOVE. 


yet lie finally spoke of it as a speculation. The last 
words of the detective, however, not only surprised, but 
disturbed him, and he began to suggest the possibilities 
of such a journey being avoided. 

“ But,” continued Gustave, “ it is absolutely essential 

for you to leave here in the morning for R , and 

to go through without stoppage. Dunny-Deaf must 
go along with you. On the night of your arrival there 
you must make sure that the mute’s revelations relative 
to the tracking of the assassin from the home of Mr. 
Mullins are correct. This will settle beyond the shadow 
of a doubt whether Jacques Burdotte carried his plunder 
to Yaiden Hall or not. If he did, it is still there. We 
must have all the light on that head we can get. It is a 
vital point. Assurance will make us courageous. I 
want every vestige of uncertainty removed. If that boy 
leads you around on the track of the assassin without 
hesitation, I will enter that house without a misgiving 
about finding the object I seek. On the other hand, if 
he doubts, or wavers, in his action on the track, I shall 
know that the game eluded him. We must know the 
movements of the murderer after he left Bailey Mullins’ 
that night, if the mute can show them. This now 
appears to be the one defect of our whole proceeding. 
Truth is probably never arrived at, except by slow pro- 
cesses, and is frequently disclosed by mere accident. 

“ You can look for me not later than twenty-four hours 
after you arrive in town. Whether Burdotte leaves here 
dead or alive, I will precede him, and meet you at the 
hotel. Eldon will have some letters for Mrs. Sealey, and 
I will send a note by you to Mr. Skaggs. Be prepared. , 


A NEW MOVE. 


231 


This movement must be conducted in secrecy. I may 
not have an opportunity to talk this matter over further. 
You will find my note with Eldon. Call at my room an 
hour before sundown, and in the morning do not look for 
me at the station. Give no orders at the book-keeper’s 
desk. I will settle your bill and forward your baggage ; 
but have your trunks packed and everything ready that 
no hindrances may be encountered, as I may leave here 
post-haste.” 

With these directions the detective departed, saying, 
with a peculiar smile: 

“ Good-bye until we meet again in R ! ” 

Nearly all the morning Edmon Auley made it a point 
to keep secluded as much as possible. There was one 
person he did not wish to encounter. Mrs. Burdotte, 
however, would remain in her room the greater portion 
of the day ; besides her need of rest, there was a more 
potent incentive for her not to make an exhibition of 
herself, but Edmon wisely determined to run no risk of 
a possible surprise. He no longer dreaded her fascina- 
tions, but he shrank from a meeting that must end dis- 
agreeably for both. His feelings were indescribable 
whenever his mind turned to his infatuation or madness. 
There was a bitter sense of deep humiliation, mingled with 
horror, at his folly, and he almost turned against himself, 
as he felt how gross and desperate his stupidity had been. 
After returning to his room the previous evening, he had 
spent a sleepless night, condemning his weakness and 
boyish susceptibility. 

The day passed without any event of moment. Most 
of the visitors at the Springs were resting from the revels 


232 


A NEW MOVE. 


of the night before, and but few persons comparatively 
were seen about until late in the afternoon. Even the 
sharp click of the balls in the billiard saloon were hardly 
heard during the day. The stillness of the Sabbath per- 
vaded the grounds. 

In the afternoon, Edmon called as requested at Arden’s 
room. He found Frank Eldon there alone, who greeted 
him with a smile, and said : 

“You think I am like a prisoner here!” 

“ Not exactly ; but it is quite natural to associate you 
with Arden’s care.” 

Eldon laughed at the oddity of the situation suggested. 
It was true that he was under the care and direction of 
the detective. 

“Well,” he said, “I come and go as I please, but I 
don’t make myself conspicuous. It would not do for 
certain parties here to recognize me. When I go abroad 
during the day I am disguised. Several times I have 
been near you without exciting your suspicion. I think 
I would make a pretty good detective with a few more, 
lessons under Gustave.” 

Frank gave his friend a full history of his course after 

leaving E on the night of the murder, explaining 

the object of his hasty departure and every circumstance 
connected with his transactions for the detection of the 
assassin of Mr. Mullins and the recovery of the money 
stolen up to the present moment. The recital was an in- 
teresting one and occupied Edmon’s thoughts the remai n- 
der of the afternoon, after he had received the letters 
mentioned by Arden in the morning and taken his leave 
of Frank. . . * . 


A NEW MOVE. 


233 


Supper over, Auley retired to his room, hoping that he 
might be able to sleep, as his journey would be a tedious 
one, and to start without any repose for two nights in 
succession was an ordeal he wished to avoid if possible. 
Time for slumber was now precious, three o’clock, A. M. 
being an early hour to rise. Dunny-Deaf came into the 
room at his usual time. On this occasion Edmon desired 
to keep a particularly close eye upon him. Tired out 
with thought, oppressed by the natural conflict of con- 
tending emotions, and also exhausted by loss of rest, 
Auley soon fell into a restless slumber, from which he 
was shortly aroused by a rap at his door. When he 
answered the call, a note was handed him by one of the 
hotel messengers, who departed immediately. He turned 
up the light which was burning dimly, and read as follows : 

“ Edmon : My heart is dreary — oh ! very gloomy and 
sad. All this day have I thought of you, and, as it drew 
to a close, I waited and watched for your coming. 
To-night I have wandered, like one forsaken and forlorn, 
from hall to room, upon the verandas and about the 
parterres, but in vain. Are you ill ? Mr. Arden said last 
evening that you felt indisposed. This suspense is horri- 
ble. You know how isolated I must feel, without a soli- 
tary friend here but yourself to whom to look for advice 
and comfort. Now, come to me to-morrow morning 
early. Captain Burdotte and Captain Manning meet in 
a deadly duel. I dare not appeal to another at such an 
hour, and I rest my assurance that you need only be 
apprised of my wish to answer my call upon your own 
words of hope. I will not doubt you, though I have 


234 


A NEW MOVE. 


suffered to-night an agony of suspense your absence pro- 
duced. Even the garrulous Arden seems to have disap- 
peared suddenly. Think how dark will be my way 
to-morrow, should you disappoint me. “ Dora.” 

It was very evident from this missive that Mrs. Bur- 
dotte’s mind was more haunted by doubts than she 
appeared willing to admit. She had been very much 
troubled at first for fear Edmon Auley was confined to 
his room from illness, but had undoubtedly quieted her 
mind on that score by inquiries ; perhaps, too, her infor- 
mation had given rise to a graver fear — a dread that he 
might be avoiding her at this critical time ; and why ? 
This was what she felt she must know at all hazards. 
The note was cautiously worded. Had she not felt the 
doubt his absence from the accustomed places of meeting 
in the afternoon and evening implied, the language of her 
missive would certainly have been pervaded by a more 
passionate sentiment and expressive of a more hopeful 
anticipation. She probably knew that Edmon Auley 
was away from his room the greater part of the day. 

The effect of this note upon the young man can better 
be imagined than described. For an hour he paced his 
room, pondering bitterly over his late delusion. He 
stung himself with Arden’s allusions to this woman’s 
intrigue and the incentive thereto. Her terrible artifice 
came with all the force of a horror to his mind. So 
inextricably had she entangled herself in the meshes of 
her own scheme that escape was impossible. Her down- 
fall was inevitable, and with what a crash it would come ! 
What would he give even now to save her ! Too late ! 


A NEW MOVE. 


235 


Her doom, with the terror reflection in the end was sure 
to bring, hung over her. For himself he felt the utmost 
shame ; for her he began to entertain pity. Had he not 
been convinced by Arden’s last utterances and also by 
Eldon’s action that they were unconscious of his wretched 
folly, his reflections would have maddened him. But 
certainly Gustave still believed that a knowledge of Bur- 
dotte’s secret was the moving cause of the breach between 
Dora and her husband. 

The note received from Mrs. Burdotte was open in his 
hand. He touched its edge to the flame of the lamp and 
held it between his fingers until it was completely con- 
sumed ; then, he muttered to himself : 

“ Thus perish my delusion, the one great folly of my 
life!” 

There was a base suggestion of relief in the idea that 
he would escape the scenes that must follow. But 
further torture was in store for him. His thoughts 
drifted from one foolish experience to another. The 
contents of his letter to Flora Straight suddenly flashed 
upon his mind. He had certainly environed his pathway 
with anything but roses ! The words he had written to 
the young girl burned into his very soul ! He found no 
comfort in the excuse of inexperience for such impetuous 
stupidity as he had been guilty of. 

With these painful reflections he fell asleep. A peace- 
ful vision appeared to him, a vision of a lovely, lonely 
being, bending over the window-sill and looking with a 
vacant gaze upon the flowers beneath, her hands folded 
across her bosom. He recognized her, and knew that 
she was waiting and watching for him ! 


236 


A KEVELATIQN. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

A REVELATION. 

F LORA could not restrain her hearts impulses. The 
words of her friend were so kind, they sent forth 
such a flow of love and melting sympathy, that her soul 
was irresistibly attracted toward her. She bent down 
and kissed her on the cheek. 

Mrs. Sealey looked up affectionately in response to this 
token of the beautiful girls love. 

am glad,” she said, “that I have given you some 
comfort in return for your confidence in me.” 

“ How could I help being comforted by your sympathy?’ 7 
“Love, my dear child! Do you not know that I love 
you?” 

Flora gazed into the countenance of her friend, with 
emotion that found vent in tears, as she said : 

“I have believed it. Your tenderness toward Gracie 
and myself has been vastly appreciated by us, and we 
have often talked and wondered about it. Since sister’s 
illness, it has always cost me a great effort to address you 
formally as Mrs. Sealey, and I have frequently stammered 
in my embarrassment in doing so.” 

“Call me aunt hereafter, if you wish. It will not be 
any too soon. Now, Flora, my dear, look around this 
house and tell me if you see any change in it, save such 
as your parents made in moving what they needed from 
the premises.” 


A KEVELATION. 


237 


“None. I have repeatedly observed the fact and 
thought your taste was so much like mother’s. Even the 
clock in the adjoining room, where we all gathered of an 
evening and which stopped on the night uncle was killed, 
remains there as motionless as ever, and my piano yet 
occupies its accustomed place.” 

“ I have thought several times of starting that clock, 
but the idea as often occurred to me that I had found it 
as it is and ought not to disturb it. You say it stopped 
at midnight?” 

“It did; the hands are in the same place over the 
figure 12.” 

Mrs. Sealey mused awhile, and then said : 

“ To-morrow at mid-day you must wind it and set it in 
motion.” 

Flora looked up with some surprise, but her friend 
continued : 

“You recollect I remarked, as you and your sister left 
the gate on the day you quitted the mansion, as you sup- 
posed, forever : ‘ Remember, you are to come here again.’ ” 

“Yes; I did not forget it; and the first time I entered 
that gate afterwards those words flashed into my mind.” 

Mrs. Sealey smiled, as she added: 

“I had a purpose in renting this property at the time 
I did that you could not imagine, and that purpose is now 
consummated. But I induced your mother to consent to 
your remaining here to-night that I might explain all. 
The time has at last arrived for me to speak out. Now, 
come with me, and I will show you your room/' 

As they ascended the broad stairway, Mrs. Sealey 
pointed out to Flora certain features most prominently 


238 


A BEVEL AT ION". 


expressive of the fixed condition of things that had been 
maintained during her occupancy of the mansion. Along 
the passage above the same order had been preserved; 
but the bed-room was the greatest surprise of all, 

“ I have preserved it in every respect/’ said Mrs. Sealey, 
“just as it was left. In airing the rooms and cleaning 
generally, my orders to re-arrange everything precisely as 
it was found have always been implicitly obeyed by the 
servants. Notice how this room has been kept. This 
property still belongs to your parents. To-morrow they 
will have the right to return to it.” 

This information both amazed and startled Flora ; but 
her bundles had been sent up, and she was told to occupy 
the apartment as her own. 

After supper was over and they had returned to the 
sitting-room, Mrs. Sealey said : 

“ I have a strange story to tell you to-night. This is 
why I wished you to remain here. I expect letters this 
evening from my nephew, Frank Eldon ! ” 

“Is this true, or am I only dreaming?” cried Flora, 
“ If it is true, I must give way to Gracie ! ” 

“ It is true ; but I don’t intend that you shall lose your 
place next my heart. Gracie must be content with Frank. 
However, I shall love you both all the same. Now, let 
me proceed. I have sent for the mail, and while we are 
waiting I will explain those things which have appeared 
so mysterious to you. On the night your uncle was assas- 
sinated Frank left here with some bonds belonging to Mr. 
Mullins to use as collaterals in raising money to meet the 
joint liabilities of your father and himself. He had al- 
ready borrowed five thousand dollars from your uncle, and 


A REVELATION, 


239 


executed a bond for that amount, which only lacked your 
father’s signature ; the money was ,to have been paid to 
Mr. Straight the next day, by which arrangement his 
business would have been saved. Mr. Mullins told Frank 
that he had just drawn the funds from the bank for invest- 
ment in E . The old gentleman had an eye to the 

railroad projects so much talked about. Frank expected 
to return from New York with sufficient cash, raised on 
the bonds borrowed by him from your uncle, to meet all 
demands. The money out in their business would have 
come in later in the season, your uncle would have been 
paid back his advances and his bonds would have been 
redeemed. Mr. Mullins was fully aware of how matters 
stood. He had every confidence in Frank, who was his 
business adviser. 

“ When my nephew arrived in New York, he found the 
market flat, and was delayed a few days waiting for infor- 
mation from parties with whom he was negotiating. He 
received a letter in the meantime from Mr. Skaggs, who 
was and still is his retained attorney here, and learned 
from its contents the sad event which had happened on 
the night he left. Another letter from Mr. Skaggs was 
received the following day, giving a fuller account of the 
affair and also the drift of public suspicion. In his sec- 
ond letter the attorney advised Frank how to proceed. I 
could not aid my nephew at once, as I wished to do, when 
this new and unlooked for complication arose in the mur- 
der and robbery of your uncle, owing to the state of the 
money market ; but I wrote to his lawyer here, promising 
to meet all liabilities as soon as I could, and urging him 
to delay everything connected with your father’s and 


240 


A- REVELATION. 


Frank's business entanglements as long as possible. I 
requested him, above all, to keep their affairs out of the 
courts, if there was any chance, as I knew that everybody 
concerned would suffer if the law were invoked in a 
settlement. Then I immediately set about raising the 
necessary funds. 

I was acquainted with a young man in New York, 
who was in the detective service and had done some busi- 
ness of the kind for my father just before he died. I sent 
for him. Frank laid the whole matter before him, and 
the result was the employment of the detective by us to 
work, up the case. I came on here in the interest of my 
nephew, first closing my house in New York and instruct- 
ing my agent there as to my wishes. Frank and the de- 
tective started for R with me, but my nephew stop- 

ped en route, and only the detective and myself came 
through to this point. We introduced ourselves to Mr. 
Skaggs. From that time we all were under the instruc- 
tion and direction of the detective service, and now you 
can understand my allusion to the class to which I be- 
longed. I was secretly associated with the business and 
for the time acting the part of a detective. 

“When Captain Jacques Burdotte and Dora Banks 
were married, learning that they would take the stage- 
coach the next day for a tour northward, I immediately 
posted a letter to Mr. Arden, who had left here to return 
to Frank’s quarters. By a happy stroke of luck he received 
my note en route, and the information it contained enabled 
him to intercept the couple at an inn about a. day’s jour- 
ney from here. We suspected Jacques Burdotte of the 
murder and robbery, and it was necessary to keep him in 


A REVELATION. 


241 


sight. Arden followed the newly-wedded pair to the 
Springs, actually traveling a part of the way in the coach 
with them. Ascertaining that Mrs. Burdotte had re- 
solved to make a lengthy sojourn at this resort, Arden 
came on here, for the second time, to consult with Mr. 
Skaggs and to experiment with the mute, who was at your 
uncles the night he was murdered. But Edmon Auley 
desired to employ the boy about this period, and his wish 
was privately, without his knowledge of the fact, assented 
to by us. We determined that it was likely Auley would 
go on the route taken by Burdotte, and this would suit us 
better than if we had the mute under our control. Arden 
said he would manage the matter, and if it became neces- 
sary he could take Mr. Auley into his confidence. Edmon 
was induced, without a disclosure of our object, to stop at 
the Springs, and these movements made it necessary for 
Frank to take up his quarters there also.” 

From this point Mrs. Sealey gave the history of the 
operations of the detective and the affairs of Frank up to 
date. She closed her account by stating that Captain 
Burdotte would be arrested for the murder of Mr. Mul- 
lins and that news to that effect was expected. 

Flora was astonished beyond all measure at this strange 
recital. It was more like fiction than reality. 

“ Your father’s business is all right now,” added Mrs. 
Sealey. 

“ And you have managed this with your own money ? ” 
Flora remarked, interrogatively, remembering and refer- 
ring to her friend’s allusion to the subject. 

“ Mr. Skaggs has been silently paying out funds and 
settling matters, reserving publicity for the last moment. 


242 


A REVELATION. 


Our object has been to cover all efforts to detect the assas- 
sin and to procure sufficient evidence to convict him; also, 
to obtain a clue to the money stolen and secreted. Every 
point has been reached, except the last two, and we have 
reason to hope that the crowning success is at hand. The 
bonds obtained from your uncle by Frank amount to 
fifteen thousand dollars, and these are now your mothers 
property.” 

Flora could restrain her feelings no longer, and, smiling 
through her tears, she exclaimed : 

“ My dear, good aunt ! I could not believe you were 
only a detective ! But how troubled I have been ever 
since you alluded to your relation to that business, in 
which you have been playing so remarkable a part, espec- 
ially where our hearts were concerned ! ” 

“ But if I had really been a member of a secret detec- 
tive service, regularly organized, could you not have loved 
me all the same ? ” 

“ Oh ! yes ! But I could not think of our parting ! ” 

“ What if I leave you now to return to my own home 
in New York?'’ 

“ Oh ! no ! I could not bear it now ! No ! You must 
never leave us — never ! ” 

These words were uttered with such sincerity that Mrs. 
Sealey could not resist their force, especially as Floras 
arms were around her neck and a flood of tears was pour- 
ing from her pretty eyes. 

‘-Well,” said she, greatly moved, “allay all further 
apprehensions about that now. I intended to return to 
New York, but circumstances have occurred to change 
my determination in that respect. How would you like 


A REVELATION. 243 ‘ 

it, if, at the solicitation of Mr. Skaggs, I should remain 
permanently in R ? 99 

“Is it possible? I should have suspected it, perhaps, 
if it had not been for the title of ‘Mrs/ prefixed to your 
name.” 

“I now discard the ‘Mrs./ and you will know me as 
Miss Eldon, until I change my true name — if I ever do. 
I am the sister of Franks father/' 

“ What a delicious old maid you are ! How sweet and 
comforting it is to think that I am to have you for my 
aunt-in-law ! ” exclaimed Flora, hardly knowing what she 
said. 

“ I am not so old as you imagine." 

“ I don’t imagine anything about it ! You are young 
and beautiful ! ” 

“But that doesn’t answer my question about Mr. 
Skaggs as more remotely your uncle-in-law ! 99 

“ Oh ! I should like you to remain at his solicitation 
ever so much ! But I am so confused now that I begin 
to fear I am only dreaming ! ” 

15 


244 THE TRUTH, NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH. 


CHAPTER XXIY. 

THE TRUTH, NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH. 

“ Give thy worst of thoughts 
The worst of words.” — Shakespere . 

T HERE was a knock at the front door. The servant 
passed through the hall, and, a moment later, 
announced that Mr. Auley had arrived. 

“ Invite him in here,” said Mrs. Sealey, and she whis- 
pered to Flora : “ Be calm and self-possessed, my dear 

child.” 

The young girl’s heart fluttered, and no effort of hers 
availed to quiet its throbbing. 

The visitor was ushered into the sitting-room. A 
single glance was enough. He stood like one suddenly 
stricken dumb and utterly bewildered. 

“ Be seated, Mr. Auley ; we are no strangers here ; you 
recognize Miss Flora, I suppose,” said Mrs. Sealey, in 
her gentle way. 

Edmon bowed as he took the proffered chair; then, 
producing the letters he had brought from Frank Eldon, 
he handed them to the speaker. 

“Flora,” said Mrs. Sealey, glancing at the letters, “one 
of these is for your father. I will send it to him to-night. 
I will look over mine at once and must leave you to en- 
tertain Mr. Auley until I return.” Then, addressing her 
visitor, she said : “ I wish you to remain here, as I may 


THE TRUTH, NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH. 245 

desire to learn something from you concerning our friends 
at the Springs.” 

Before Edmon could reply Mrs. Sealey had withdrawn, 
leaving him alone with Flora. 

“ I must brave this out ! ” thought he, striving to over- 
come his embarrassment. 

Flora felt the extreme awkwardness of the situation, 
but Mrs. Sealey had delegated her to entertain the visitor, 
and her duty must be discharged. 

“ I must speak ! ” she thought. “ This silence is terri- 
ble ! ” Making a gigantic effort, she forced herself to 
say : “ I suppose, Mr. Auley, you had a very agreeable 

sojourn at the Springs ? ” 

Edmon shuddered at the question, but its coolness was 
reassuring and encouraging. It, at least, gave him an 
opportunity to answer for himself. He was beginning to 
feel that since he was so suddenly and unexpectedly 
thrown back into the presence of this fair and lovely 
being, he would be willing to be put upon the witness 
stand, that he was ready to answer every question fully 
and faithfully at her behest. He would even go further, 
should the opportunity offer, and ask her forgiveness for 
his conduct; indeed, if she gave him the chance, he 
would make a complete confession and have an end of it. 
But, meanwhile, he would be as formal as she saw fit 
to be. 

“ No, Miss Flora,” he replied ; “ a very unpleasant and 
mysterious time I spent there.” 

“You surprise me! I thought you went there for 
pleasure, andT cannot imagine how you failed to enjoy 
yourself, as the season is unusually brilliant.” 


246 THE TRUTH, NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH. 

“You mistook my motive altogether. I did not go 
there for pleasure ; in fact, I had no intention of going 
there when I left R .” 

“ Ah ! indeed ! I hope I am not too inquisitive, but 
you know we could not go to that resort this year, as 
has always been our family custom, so I feel some inter- 
est in regard to it. I suppose that, though you did not 
intend going there at first, the temptation was too great 
for you to resist.” 

“ If you will allow me to be plain, I will add that if 

pleasure had been my idea in leaving R at the time 

I did, I might have persisted in the vain pursuit of it 
here, even in the face of the cancelled privilege ! ” 

This remark was a gallant thrust, but there was a spice 
of bitterness in it which Flora felt. 

“ What a strange admission ! ” she thought. 

A momentary pause ensued, during which both seemed 
lost in reflection. 

“ You must confess that the season is brilliant, and that 
there was much to attract you there,” said Flora, finally, 
without duly weighing her last words. She lost sight of 
what she was saying in the effort to find something 
to say. Really, she would have been glad to have 
changed the subject, but nothing else would suggest 
itself. 

“ Yes, the season is a gay one ; but its usual attraction 
to me was not there !” 

This was a skillful warding off of Flora’s pointed 
remark, and the young girl looked up to see if she 
could catch the meaning from his eyes. They still wore 
a sad expression. But Edmon continued : 


THE TRUTH, NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH. 247 

“ The letters I brought here I was directed to leave 
with Mrs. Sealey. They contain important information 
that will explain the reason of my stopping at the 
Springs, why my stay there was prolonged and, finally, 
the necessity of my return here, at this time, contrary 
to my original purpose of traveling.” 

There was a deep feeling in these words not percepti- 
ble at a glance. Edmon was not trying to evade ques- 
tioning, or purposely avoiding a straightforward reply. 
On the contrary, he did not wish the facts perverted. 
To his mind his fault was grievous enough without a 
misconception of the truth. 

Flora did not fail to observe the desperate struggle 
going on in his mind, and Could not repress a strong feel- 
ing of sympathy for him. How could she “ be calm and 
self-possessed,” if that meant being cold and repellant in 
his presence ? Miss Eldon could not estimate the strength 
of the attachment that once existed between them, of 
that confidence which, she knew, must, sooner or later, if 
they met, expose the secret motive of Edmon’s recent 
course. Eepentant reflections were certain to bring this 
about, unless her former lover fled from her presence, or 
hid himself from his kind with the consciousness of a 
strange guilt hanging over him for life. This could not 
be ; she would not believe he had fallen so far that the 
story of his indiscretion was too dark to recite in her 
presence. She would know — she must know. If he 
could forgive her for driving him forth to be made the 
victim of a folly he had almost confessed, she, too, would 
not be outdone in this spirit. Already she had repented 
of her own act as one without reflection, impulsively 


248 THE TRUTH, NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH. 

committed, with no thought of the consequences which 
might flow out of it to war against their happiness. 

She acknowledged that her own peace of mind had 
been disturbed, and if Edmon Auley had gone from her, 
recklessly plunging into a gulf fatal to his hope for the 
future, how dreadful the thought of her own wrong! 
She had said go, and he had gone out into a night of 
doubt, and reason might have departed with hope. There 
was something reproachful in his words. Could he have 
meant to make her feel that she had sent the fatal missile 
which brought death to his happiness? His fault must 
be something worse than a mere youthful inconstancy, or 
a momentary infatuation for another, to cause her to cease 
to love him. Thus far, her own and his error were almost 
of equal magnitude. Beyond this she dare not think. 

These reflections ran through Flora’s mind, one after 
another, like the varied phases of a vision; then, she 
ventured to try him on his last words. 

“ So you intended to travel, if I understand you, and 
not to return here at this time ? ” 

“ Yes, I felt like a stranger to myself; but the folly is 
ended, the delusion is past, and, though happiness is not 
mine, I can feel confident henceforth of my own integrity. 

But you, Flora, you whom I have wronged ” 

“ Me ! — wronged me, Edmon ? I thought from your 
previous remark that I was the party in fault. I must 
forgive you, if I alone was wronged ! ” 

“Pardon me, Flora. You are too pure and innocent 
to comprehend the extent of my folly. My remark 
was only a foolish reference to my past avowals to you 
and the hope you appeared to encourage. That dream 


THE TRUTH, NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH. 249 

is over now, and in losing yon I have, indeed, lost a 
treasure ! ” 

These words would have been very precious confessions 
to Flora, if they had not been characterized by such all- 
pervading seriousness ; they seemed to be shrouded by a 
deep gloom, behind which might be concealed something 
more to be dreaded. 

“ Away with these doubts, these unmeaning forebo- 
dings ! I will endure this uncertainty no longer l W e 
once spoke plainly to each other ; we must so speak 
again. I will probe this mystery. He shall answer ! ” 
These thoughts prefaced Flora’s next remarks, for which 
Edmon had furnished her the text. 

“ But,” she said, “you, perhaps, felt worthy of a greater 
treasure, which you pursued and also lost ; hence your 
desperation. Like the speculator, who, in his greed for 
greater gain, risked all and lost, and then mourned because 
he was not content with less, you now chide yourself for 
the folly of a pursuit that failed in its realization. Is 
this so, and is it all ?” 

“You do yourself terrible injustice, Flora, by the com- 
parison you make. There is no fitness whatever in your 
illustration. You took from me the treasure I had 
always coveted, and crushed my hope to start with. I 
sought simply to forget the genuine treasure of which I 
was already dispossessed in a mere diversion, which I 
blindly followed until by an accident I was awakened 
from my dream in time, it is true, to save my honor, but 
only to bitterly realize how unfaithful I had been to former 
vows and how unworthy I was of a pure affection like 
yours. I wrote to you under the pressure of my 


250 THE TRUTH, NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH. 

wretched feelings, and, although I may have expressed a 
truth, I have often wished those lines recalled, for, since 
they were written, I have discovered how deep and 
intense was the pain they were capable of giving me.” 

Mrs. Sealey returned at this juncture and Edmon arose 
to depart. 

“J presume,” he said, “ Mr. Eldon’s letter informed you 

of my business in E , and that you know I may have 

but a brief period for the accomplishment of my object.” 

“Yes; I quite understand now; but you will surely 
return here in the morning and report your success 
to us.” 

The young man promised. 

“ I suppose it was but a flirtation after all, Flora,” said 
Miss Eldon, as soon as Edmon had gone. 

“Not that; it would be discreditable to him to call it 
such. He undoubtedly was sincere in his motive, but 
what a peculiar delusion he labored under ! ” 

“ I understand it ; you had sent him adrift. Such free- 
dom he had never coveted. He was lost in his liberty, 
and sought only amusement. At the party he fell in 
with Dora Banks — and such a fascination as she threw 
around him! It was just suited to his state of mind. 
Her magnetism was irresistible, yet his pursuit of her 
was innocent enough. If you had been by his side, he 
would have detected the mere tinsel of her charms. The 
contrast would have been so strong that you would easily 
have held him. Dora’s marriage and your injunction 
forced him to fly from the scenes and associations here. 

“ By our schemes he was induced to make a change in 
his movements and was thus brought directly into the 


THE TRUTH. NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH. 


251 


toils of a woman driven to desperation by a hated 
alliance. What artifices she employed to lead him on I 
can only imagine from what I observed the night of the 
party. It was a mere infatuation upon Mr. Auley’s part. 
His mistake lay in depending on strength he did not 
possess. His pastime, at last, became a serious reality 
which might have led to a complication, because Dora 
Banks had devoted herself wholly to her desperate pur- 
pose. She had resolved to entwine Edmon Auley’s des- 
tiny with hers, if she lost her own soul in the effort, and 
to accomplish this end no device which promised success 
was overlooked by her. In dark ways she is an adept 
and of deep plots a master, but in his presence she was 
an angel of beauty and devotion. 

“Mr. Arden’s description of her at the grand ball sur- 
passes anything of the kind I have ever heard. He says 
that she absolutely enraptured every one, and that on the 
grandest occasions, in the largest centres of fashion, she 
would have been an object of the highest admiration 
and the subject of the greatest comment, if she had pre- 
sented herself as she appeared that night at the Springs. 
But her charms failed with Edmon Auley and her spell 
was broken. The test has thoroughly convinced him of 
the extent of human deception and human depravity. 
He returns here both fortified and refined by having 
passed through the fire — fortified by experience and 
refined by a knowledge of human weakness he had 
never before suspected. He returns to you, Flora, with 
a higher conception of the purity and innocence of your 
character, and thinks himself so contaminated and debased 
as to be entirely unfit for your presence — much less ever 


252 THE TRUTH, NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH. 

again to hope for your smiles and your love. Nothing 
proves him so worthy as that he magnifies his offense 
into a crime, and elevates you in the scale as he feels him- 
self descend in his own estimation. When he comes again, 
take him back to your heart, for you can never hope to 
find one purer, truer and nobler than he will ever be to 
you as your husband, however much he may disparage 
himself as a suitor.” 

****** 

After alighting from the stage-coach Edmon Auley 
had sent Dunny-Deaf home to see his mother ; hence on 
leaving Mrs. Sealey’s he went in quest of him and found 
him with his parent. He informed the mute’s mother 
that he wished the boy for a little experiment and would 
return with him in an hour or so. 

Edmon proceeded at once to the residence of Mr. 
Straight, but without disturbing the family. He was 
delighted to discover that Dunny-Deaf either understood 
the object he had in view in coming to this point, or 
seized the opportunity himself to show him what he 
most desired to learn. The mute had no sooner reached 
the yard fence than he took Auley’s hand and led him to 
the rear of the building, pointing to the path leading 
from the front of the house to the fence on the right. 
Edmon followed him there, and then Dunny-Deaf started 
off, looking behind to see if his companion kept pace 
with him. Being assured that he was understood, he 
pursued the path into a strip of woods just below the 
crossing as it extended beyond a short distance ; then, he 
struck off to the left, and kept, with the exception of 
some zigzag movements, in this course until the opposite 


THE TRUTH, NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH, 253 

end of the town had been passed, when he turned sud- 
denly, almost at right angles, and followed this direction 
for some time; 1 then he swept around again on a parallel 
with his first movement through the wooded strip, but 
with his course reversed and on the opposite side of the 

town. Here he inclined in toward E and finally 

brought up at Yaiden Hall, which stood in the suburbs. 
Dunny-Deaf moved cautiously around the building until 
he reached the north-east corner, where he halted and 
pointed to the window above on the second floor. 

“ This is evidently where Burdotte came after leaving 
the scene of his crime,’ 7 thought Edmon, “and Dunny- 
Deaf knows into what room he went by his striking a 
light on his return.” 

The object accomplished, it was useless to linger about 
the spot, so Auley placed his hand kindly on the boy’s 
shoulder, gave the sign to depart, and they returned to 
the town together. A lunch was taken at one of the 
restaurants, after which Edmon accompanied the mute 
home as he had promised ; then he went to the hotel and 
retired for the night, feeling relieved by the success of 
his experiment. 

He had had but very slight opportunities for reflection 
since he had left Flora and Mrs. Scaley at the mansion, 
as his thoughts were busy with the operation of tracing 
out the course of the villain who had invaded the quiet 
home of Bailey Mullins several weeks before and done 
his dark work there. A strange and awful result was 
now developing from that tragedy, and to that result 
his action that night bore an important relation. He 
was now convinced that through the instrumentality of 


254 THE TRUTH, NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH. 

the mute — a silent witness of the dreadful crime — Arden 
not only had unmasked the criminal, but also would be 
able to discover the stolen money, or, at least, as much of 
it as was yet secreted in Yaiden Hall. 

What a blow would come to proud Mrs. Banks 
through her relationship to Burdotte, and with how much 
greater force would it fall when the money — the incen- 
tive to the foul deed — was torn from its hiding-place in 
her house ! He could not bear to think of Dora Bur- 
dotte as the wife of the murderer, perhaps having a 
knowledge of the crime, which she might have possessed 
before their marriage. He crushed down all thought of 
her by calling another to his aid. 

The interval had been short since Edmon Auley had 
left one whom he had loved with a genuine passion, and 
whom he still adored, though he felt it an abuse of her 
purity for him even to confess it; yet had she not that 
night rather encouraged his hope than tried to extinguish 
it entirely in his breast? It afforded him some comfort 
to woo the idea that, after all, it might, perhaps, be as 
necessary for her happiness as for his that their separa- 
tion should not be made final. He would be a coward 
not to test this matter, for, if such should be the fact, his 
recent determination to go abroad and hide himself 
among new faces and new things would be an error as 
grave as his first in her case. It was his right now 
to speak. He had stood as a self-accuser long enough. 
He had made his confession and done penance. He had 
repented. Henceforth he would stand erect in his nobler 
manhood. Though Flora might deal the blow that 
would wreck his hope forever, her image should never 


THE TRUTH, NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH. 255 

be displaced from bis heart, and with that pure and 
lovely image constantly before him he would live until 
the end. He would make this vow for the sake of a 
confidence he had violated and a love he had forfeited. 

Early the following morning, Edmon Auley delivered 
the letter sent by Arden to Mr. Skaggs. 

“Well,” said the lawyer, after he had glanced at the 
contents of the note, “did you make that experiment 
last evening ? n 
“I did” 

“How did it turn out?” 

“ The mute conducted me from the rear of the house 
now occupied by Mr. Straight west by north ; then he 
took a southern course, and then went east by north on 
the south side of the town, finally bringing up in the 
north-east corner of Yaiden Hall.” 

“ Ah ! What then ? ” 

Mr. Skaggs showed considerable interest. 

“ He pointed to a window in the second-story of the 
building.” 

“ That was the very room occupied by Burdotte while 
here. I suppose that closed the experiment and nothing 
further occurred ? ” 

“Nothing,” replied Edmon. 

“It was sufficient, if the mute made no halt, or 
showed no hesitation on the route, as if a diversion had 
been made by the person pursued.” 

“ He did nothing of the kind ; I watched him atten- 
tively. He is remarkably intelligent, and I am satisfied 
he was conscious throughout of my object and of the 
necessity of clearly indicating all that happened.” 


256 THE TRUTH, NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH. 

After a pause, as if for reflection, tlie lawyer said, in 
an undertone, as if to himself: 

“ God’s mill grinds slowly but surely ! ” Then he 
added, in his ordinary voice: “We may look for 
Gustave Arden at any time. You can be found at the 
hotel, I suppose, Edmon ? ” 

“Yes — in an hour or two.” 

About eleven o’clock Edmon called at the mansion. 
Mrs. Sealey was just ready to go out, but listened to his 
recital of the incident of the evening before and of its 
success as far as was hoped for ; then she said to the 
young man: 

“ I shall be gone about an hour, and you must excuse 
me. Flora, however, will be better company. She will 
entertain you, Mr. Auley, until my return, as I wish to 
find you here then.” 

“I have an engagement at the hotel in an hour,” 
replied Edmon, looking at his watch. 

“ Perhaps you will not be looked* for at the hotel until 
I return. Mr. Skaggs will be absent about the same 
length of time as myself.” 

“Well, if you will inform Mr. Skaggs that I can be 
found here, that will answer.” 

There was to be a meeting of the members of the 
church to act upon the resignation of Mr. Lent, the 
minister, which was to be tendered on that occasion. 
To that meeting Miss Eldon was going. The lawyer 
would be there also. In fact, he had just been ushered 
into the hall of the mansion, and was waiting to accom- 
pany Miss Eldon to the church. 


THE DUEL AND ITS RESULT. 


257 


CHAPTER XXY. 

THE DUEL AND ITS RESULT. 

“Men arrayed for mutual slaughter.” — Wadsworth, 

T HE morning of the duel between Burdotte and 
Manning was fair. The hills surrounding the 
place were picturesque, and the ground chosen for the 
battle was in every sense inviting. 

As the sun sent its full light over the tree-tops and 
shrubbery on the hillsides, the parties came on the spot. 
No time was lost in preparation, and soon the principals 
were put in position with their deadly weapons in their 
hands. 

The duel was fought in the style, under the code, usual 
at that heroic period, when it was considered most honor- 
able for gentlemen and villains alike to settle personal 
misunderstandings in this way. 

One round only was fired. Manning was slightly 
wounded, receiving a mere scratch on the shoulder. 
Burdotte fell, evidently badly, if not mortally hurt, 
and was carried back to the Springs. 

Gustave Arden had preceded all other messengers with 
the news of the result of the duel, and proffered Mrs. 
Burdotte any assistance he could render ; but he was not 
disappointed when he observed concealed, beneath an 
artificial appearance of grief, an inward satisfaction at the 
information she received. 


258 


THE DUEL AND ITS RESULT. 


“ Where is Mr. Auley ? ” she inquired. “ Why don’t 
he come to me?” 

“ He left here very hastily this morning,” Arden re- 
plied, watching the effect of his announcement. 

“ Terrible ! Oh ! miserable me ! The only friend, too, 
I had at the Springs — and to be forsaken by him at such 
an hour ! ” 

“His business was urgent,” remarked Gustave, whose 
sympathies were somewhat aroused by the frantic despair 
she exhibited at the information he had imparted. 

“ Where has he gone ? ” she excitedly asked. 

“ To R .” 

Dora Burdotte wrung her hands as she anxiously 
inquired : 

u Did he leave no explanation for me — no word — 
nothing ? ” 

“ Nothing ! ” answered Arden. 

For a moment she paused, and, then, in a spirit of 
heroic submission, said, more calmly : 

“That makes this blow fall upon me with double 
force, and I must bear it alone ! ” 

“ Perhaps,” intimated Arden, “ I can aid you.” 

“ Thank you, Mr. Arden.” 

Captain Burdotte, brought to the hotel on a litter, was 
laid upon his bed and the doctors examined his wound. 
His wife pressed forward with a show of tenderness and 
distress. All present observed the savage scowl with 
which her advance was met by her husband and the 
slight wave of his hand which repelled her from the 
bedside. 

“Gentlemen,” said the wounded man, in a tremulous 


THE DUEL AND ITS RESULT. 259 

and very faint voice, addressing the doctors, “ I wish to 
know my real condition.” 

The physicians only shook their heads. 

u Is it possible for me to be conveyed back to R ? ” 

“ Not in your present state,” and the two medical men 
exchanged looks easily interpreted by the bystanders. 

Mrs. Burdotte’s cheeks paled at her husband’s question, 
but the reply of the doctors restored their color. One old 
lady sympathizingly took her hand and pressed it, with a 
few kind words of comfort. Others tendered sympathy. 
None knew the relief Mrs. Burdotte felt within her and 
what a mockery of consolation their expressions really 
were. 

It was now very clear that Captain Jacques Burdotte 
was mortally wounded and rapidly sinking. The ball had 
done its work. The present indications and the result of 
the examination were sufficient. All doubt was settled. 

Arden had closely watched every movement. Presently 
he stepped to the bedside and said : 

“ Captain Burdotte, you are dying ! ” 

“ I know it,” answered the wounded man, in a low tone. 

“Would you like to confer about any subject upon 
your mind ? ” 

“ Doctor,” Burdotte asked, faintly and tremulously, 
of the elder of the two physicians, “ what do you think 
now? ” 

“ If you have anything to say,” was the reply, “ you 
had better avail yourself of the present moment.” 

“ How long do you think I can last ? ” he inquired, 
in a feeble tone and with a quickening respiration. 

“ Your time is very brief! ” 

16 


260 


THE DUEL AND ITS RESULT. 


Tlie physicians turned and walked to another part of 
the room. 

The face of the dying man was paler ; his eyes were 
glassy, sunken, and presented a deadened hue ; his voice 
was approaching a whisper and growing husky. Con- 
sciousness was ebbing rapidly. 

“Not a second is to be lost!” thought Arden. “I 
suppose there is nothing you wish to divulge, Captain,” 
he said, bending down close to the sinking man, who 
lifted his eyes with the stare of death in them, as, with 
a spasmodic effort, he exclaimed, in an almost inarticu- 
late manner: 

“Vaiden Hall — the will is in my chest beneath the 
bed — my room ! Yes — Bailey Mullins — he never spoke! 
In the chest — notes — bonds — papers ! Dora ! ha ! ha ! 
This beats your trick ! I’m a rover ! Ahoy ! There — 
bring ’er too — the old hulk — burn — yes, burn ’er ! ” 

A low rattle in the throat followed these disconnected 
words — the man was dead ! The gloved hand was bare, 
revealing the little finger gone and a healed gash across 
the palm. On looking up from his bending position, 
Arden’s eyes met those of Mrs Burdotte, and he was 
struck by her ghastly, frightful pallor. She had heard 
it all. 

“ What was it, Mr. Arden ? What did he say ? ” 

Anxiety and alarm were expressed in her tone ; she 
gazed fixedly into Gustave’s countenance as if she would 
read him through and through. 

“His mind was wandering. It was only a passing 
death fancy.” 

“Did you understand him? ” 


THE DUEL AND ITS RESULT. 


261 


“It was very incongruous. He probably wished his 
body removed to Yaiden Hall, and spoke of his will in a 
chest, of money, bonds and bundles in his room, all of 
which will be explained when his affairs are examined 
into/’ 

Arden glanced at her face, as he spoke, and saw upon 
it a look of wild terror. He added: 

“Mrs. Burdotte, I have arranged to leave the Springs 
this afternoon; can I aid you in any way before I 
depart?” 

Gustave Arden knew that Mrs. Burdotte would not 
leave this resort until she had outwardly paid every pos- 
sible respect to her husband’s remains. 

Arrangements were made to send the body of Jacques 
Burdotte to R for interment. 

As soon as he was assured that his services could be 
dispensed with by Mrs. Burdotte, Gustave returned to his 
room, where he found Frank Eldon awaiting him. 

“The affair is over,” he said. “When he gave up the 
ghost, the glove came off his left hand, and, sure enough, 
the little finger was missing, and there was the scar 
across the palm.” 

Gustave had been so deeply interested in Captain Bur- 

dotte’s doings in R that he had made it his business 

to learn all he could about him. When informed by 
Frank that Burdotte might be regarded as only a tem- 
porary visitor to that town, with a locum tenens somewhere 
else, -or that he was cosmopolitan in his habits, Arden had 
sent a description of him to the detective service of New 
York. He had just received instructions to examine the 
left hand of the party described, and, if certain signs were 


262 


THE DUEL AND ITS RESULT. 


there, to arrest him on a warrant for river piracy and 
murder recently committed in New York harbor. It 
was afterwards disclosed that several of the gang con- 
cerned had been captured, while some escaped, among 
them the leader, who was supposed to have fled South, 
but his trail had been lost. Of those captured one or 
two turned informers in the hope of receiving a pardon, 
and from their statements it was thought that Captain 
Jacques Burdotte was the chief of the gang ; and, if so, 
it was important to arrest him as a famous desperado, not 
only as a river pirate and smuggler, who had been en- 
gaged in quite a number of atrocious deeds, but also as 
once connected with piracy on the high seas. It had 
been asserted by the informers that he would be known 
by the loss of a little finger and a scar across the palm of 
his left hand, the result of wounds he had received from 
a cutlass on the ocean during a hand-to-hand encounter 
with the captain of a merchantman his piratical craft 
had captured, and who lost his life in his valiant defense 
of his ship. 

“ The disclosure of the gloved hand settles his identity 
as the person wanted,” said Frank. 

“ Yes ; but Manning’s bullet cut short his career, and 
revenged Bailey Mullins while the law was trying to get 
in its work. I can only communicate the facts to head- 
quarters.” 

Shortly after mid-day, Arden and Frank Eldon bade 
adieu to the Springs and started on horseback for R . 


RESTORED. 


263 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

RESTORED. 

T HE hour was nearly oyer. Most of it had been 
spent in conversing about the Springs and what 
had occurred there. Flora filled out the intervals 
in the conversation, at Edmon’s request, with music, 
mostly of his selection. It had been some time since he 
had heard that voice, with its exquisite harmony, in the 
soft melody of song. Flora’s soul was in the strains she 
sent forth. There was an irresistible sweetness, a heav- 
enly peacefulness, in them. 

The young man had been several times by her side, 
singing duets with her, and very often the dearest wish 
of his heart had leaped in words to his lips, only to 
be thrust back in fear as too bold to be uttered to one so 
pure and lovely. 

But now Flora was playing and singing one of her 
most beautiful and pathetic ballads, the words of which 
they had frequently sung together. The young girl’s 
tones spoke to his heart. They seemed to say : “ Come 

back!” 

Edmon drew his chair close up to the sweet performer, 
and, when she had finished the song, looked into her 
lovely eyes, sparkling with a rich, mellow radiance. 
Forcing back all doubts, he cried: 

“Flora, is my day of penance over? Can I again 
speak to you with words of love? ” 


264 


RESTORED. 


“ Edmon,” said Flora, as she turned her eyes full upon 
her suitor, 11 arc you sure now that you truly love me — 
that you may not be mistaken as before?” 

“ My first and only love has always been yours. No 
other woman ever possessed it. Delusion is not affec- 
tion, madness is not love ! Once, when I came to you 
with this same offering, you rejected it and suspected my 
constancy. I come again, and you must fix my destiny. 
Will you now make real my doubts by the certainty of 
a fate that must always separate us, or will you be 
my own — a treasure to me forever?” 

Edmon bent low, and with heaving bosom awaited 
the reply. 

At this moment Miss Eldon entered. 

There was a large attendance at the meeting of the 
members called at the church to consider Mr. Lent’s 
resignation. Many spectators were also present, and the 
deepest interest was felt by the whole assembled body. 

In due course Mr. Lent arose and presented his 
written pastoral resignation in the proper form, asking 
the privilege of accompanying it with an explanation of 
the cause of the step he was taking and of his own 
motive in the premises. He then proceeded to state 
that objection had been raised to his doctrinal dis- 
courses by some of the members of the congregation, 
which had resulted in dissatisfaction and division. He 
saw no other way to heal the wounds inflicted than 
by removing the cause of contention. His work was 
a matter of conscience and his mission must be ful- 
filled. He had not endeavored to thrust his convictions 
upon any one, but to present them, from time to time, 


RESTORED. 


265 


that they might be tested alongside of old beliefs and 
stand upon their merit in the light of truth. He had 
prepared a brief synopsis of those declarations of belief 
which seemed to have produced the grievances com- 
plained of and which had determined his action. This 
synopsis he proceeded to read. It was listened to with 
deep attention. 

When Mr. Lent finished and resumed his seat, a 
solemn silence pervaded the congregation. Then Mr. 
Skaggs arose, and, in his soft, musical voice, asked leave 
to offer a resolution, which he proceeded to lead as 
follows : 

“ Eesolved that it is the sense of this congregation, 
expressed at a full meeting of its members, that our 
beloved pastor has in all things deported himself in the 
discharge of his ministry to the complete satisfaction of 
this church, and that his doctrinal discourses meet with 
its sanction and approval ; in view of which, the congre- 
gation, in a body, unite in the request that he withdraw, 
for the present, his letter of resignation and further con- 
sider the determination formally made known in it.” 

In support of his resolution when properly debatable, 
Mr. Skaggs said : 

“ I will remark briefly that our minister is not on trial 
before us ; this is not the proper tribunal for that. We 
understand the issue here to be merely local in its nature. 
If to the body of the church our minister’s doctrines are 
unpalatable, or objectionable, let them be sifted accord- 
ing to the standaids before the authorized court. As a 


266 


RESTORED. 


member of the greater body of our branch of the church, 
we can say whether the doctrines announced from this 
pulpit by the pastor are distasteful to this congregation or 
the reverse. The object of the resolution is to test that 
question as a local one, and with this view only is it 
presented.” 

Several attempts were made to amend the resolution 
or to substitute, but they were all almost unanimously 
voted down. 

One of the younger members of the congregation 
moved that the vote on the resolution be taken by rising. 
This motion was carried with a hearty “ aye ! ” Then the 
vote was called for and taken. When those favoring the 
adoption were asked to rise, the congregation stood up 
almost as a solid mass, and when the advocates of 
rejection were requested to signify their will, the few 
who had remained sitting during the affirmation of the 
resolution continued in their seats. The adoption of the 
resolution was the prelude to an outbreak of applause 
among the spectators, quieted instantly by the deep- 
toned organ, which sent forth its anthem of praise to 
Almighty God for His wonderful works and His won- 
derful Word. 

The mistress of Vaiden Hall felt deeply humiliated by 
the defeat of her party in so marked a manner. In her 
own peculiar way she had fomented and nursed the 
opposition to the pastor until it had almost reached a 
scandal, and positive action on his part was demanded. 
His very course led to the triumph of his cause, but no 
one was more surprised than himself at the unanimity of 
his approval. He knew to whom he was indebted for 


RESTORED. 


267 


the division of sentiment in his church, and to whom he 
owed a grateful acknowledgment for that spirit of 
encouragement which had overthrown the enemies of 
truth, whose principal was actuated by no other motive 
than a selfish purpose to destroy. Her object was pretty 
well understood on the eve of this meeting, and the 
supporters of Mr. Lent were careful to impute all the 
venom of the opposition to him to his sermon on “ The 
Sacredness of the Marriage Yow.” 

Mrs. Banks was very much chagrined at the sudden 
turn of the tide in Mr. Lent’s favor, and her vexation 
was greatly augmented by the import of certain whisper- 
ings she had heard about the Straights that day. Mrs. 
Toll had gathered it from Mrs. Sealey, and it had been 
confirmed, as she understood, by Mr. Skaggs. Mrs. Toll 
was more than anxious to impart this news to the mis- 
tress of Yaiden Hall. It was a terrible shock to the 
nerves of Mrs. Banks, who trembled as the thought 
rushed upon her of the necessity of meeting her old 
rival once more upon an equal footing. The idea of 
the restoration of the Straights to their former place in 
society bewildered her ; it was absolutely crushing and 
intolerable. Added to this, a more distracting subject 
was suddenly forced upon her mind, before she reached 
home from the church meeting, by the re-appearance of 

Dunny-Deaf in the streets of R . It then occurred to 

her for the first time that if the boy had been a silent 
witness of the tragedy at Mr. Mullins’ house, he might at 
some time and in some way make the fact known. This 
idea became intensely disturbing as she thought it over, 
and she began to wonder if he knew more than the mere 


268 


RESTORED. 


fact of the murder. Might he not have pursued the 
assassin to the very walls of his retreat ? Mute as he 
was, he might be able to reveal the secret motive of the 
crime. 

It was in this state of mind that Mrs. Banks entered 
her stately abode after leaving the church. Other mat- 
ters rose to distress her. Dark suggestions, like weird 
shadow-shapes, thronged about her, pursuing her to her 
very room and disturbing her peace. Ever and anon, 
she shuddered as she thought of her daughter’s significant 
hints. Hardly a day passed now that did not bring her 
some word from Dora, whose letters were written, as a 
rule, in a language that would be unintelligible to others, 
but which was plain enough to her. 

“ Dora will soon return,” she said, speaking to herself 
in a whisper, and she gazed around, startled by her own 
articulated thoughts. Taking from a drawer of the little 
stand in her room, upon which her arm now rested, a 
letter received that morning, the contents of which had 
not been fully weighed, her eyes again ran over the lines: 

“ Mother : The ball to-night was very grand. Bur- 
dotte’s jealousy reached its highest pitch, and he created 
a scene by grossly insulting Captain Manning. I fear, if 
the breach is not healed by friends, I shall be a widow in 
my honeymoon before many hours. Don’t be troubled ; 
hope for the best, and, if the worst comes, I will fly to 
you for comfort. Edmon, with Dunny-Deaf, is still 
here. “ Dora.” 

Mrs. Banks’ imagination had been so stimulated by 


RESTORED. 


269 


recent incidents that it was no hard matter for her to con- 
ceive any notion. The secret of the sealed chamber had 
been suspected, and the suspicion had grown in strength 
as her mind gave way under the pressure of this day’s 
events. Dora’s letter revealed a crisis that might have 
been anticipated, and now that it was approaching, the 
horror of it haunted Vaiden Hall. 

“ What ails me ? ” cried Mrs. Banks. u Dread creeps 
over me like a phantom’s touch, and if the house were 
full of evil spectres, of strange, ghostly shapes, I could 
not be more frightened ! I am altogether unhinged ! ” 
As she finished speaking these words aloud, she uttered a 
wild shriek. 

Was it only an echo, or did some malicious spirit 
mock her outcry ? 

She ventured to open her room door, which she had 
closed when she came in, and looked down the passage- 
way. Nothing was there. 

“ If that is the secret and the evidence of it is sealed 
in that room, it is safe. Jacques would not divulge it, 
even to satisfy conscience, or he is not a true Burdotte. 
Dora, too, has the blood of the Burdottes’ in her veins.” 

Mrs. Banks spoke loudly enough to be heard at the 
extreme end of the passage. 

“ Bress God ! it’s safe in dat yar room — it is, missus. I 
seed ’im when he corned hum dat night — I did — wid a 
bundle he’d a ne’er carried in daytime — big enough fur 
’im to a had a nigger ’long fur to brung it fur ’im. I 
knowed de next mornin’ who killed Mr. Mullins wen I 
fust heard ib — an’ dat’s de reason no nigger brung in de 
luggidge fur ’im ! ” 


270 


RESTORED. 


It was old Nan, who came around from the north- 
east corner of the house. 

Mrs. Banks shrieked again, as she put out her hand as 
if to repel the advancing form of the old negress, and 
cried : 

“ Away ! away ! thing of darkness ! Out of my 
sight you evil one, and haunt me no longer ! ” Her 
livid face and outstretched hand gave her a startling 
spectral appearance. 

With a hoarse laugh, old Nan caught up and repeated 
the shriek of her mistress. 

The servants were aroused and ran to the spot. Nan 
was carried below. 

“ Madam, you are quite ill,” said the housekeeper, 
who, accompanied by Mrs. Banks’ maid, now appeared 
upon the scene. 

“ 111 ! Yes,” answered Mrs. Banks, with a hysterical 
laugh; then, in a soliloquizing way, she continued: 
11 Though remote in lineage, yet this act, which frightens 
me so, proves her spirit closer of kin to the old sire’s 
blood than her mother .” 

The nurse entered the room and, assisted by the others, 
got Mrs. Banks into her bed. Some quieting drops were 
administered and the doctor was sent for. 

“But it is Burdotte against Burdotte! Will Dora’s 
treachery, if he should fall, induce him to divulge this 
secret in revenge ? ” Thus Mrs. Banks continued to rave 
until her excitement was subdued by the preparation she 
had taken. 

The doctor soon called, giving his directions and leav- 
ing medicine for this return of his patient’s hysteria. 


RESTORED. 


271 


Mrs. Toll also called, and, for the first time since their 
friendship began, withdrew without being admitted into 
the presence of the mistress of Vaiden Hall. 

The doctor pronounced old Nan’s case critical and did 
not think she could live till midnight. The aged negress 
had probably had a premonition of her state and had 
visited the up-stairs region that afternoon, for the last 
time, because of it. She was faithfully attended by her 
kind and died about sundown, declaring that she had 
seen her day and that Yaiden Hall had passed from the 
last of the Burdottes, whose family history closed with 
her death. 

********* 
When Edmon Auley left the mansion, on the return of 
Miss Eldon from the church, Flora accompanied him into 
the front yard, beautiful as a fairy dream and stately as a 
princess. Her golden hair clustered in curls like a crown 
around her head, while her deep blue eyes sent forth an 
expression that was sweetness itself. Her maiden modesty 
was only equalled by her maiden purity. Blushingly she 
placed her hand in Edmon’s, and said : 

“ My heart has never changed ! ” 


272 


VAIDEN HALL YIELDS UP ITS SECRET. 


CHAPTER, XXVII. 

VAIDEN HALL YIELDS UP ITS SECRET. 

“ Thus the whirligig of time brings in his revenges. ” 

I T was 12 o’clock, and a bright noon it was. By 
invitation of Mrs. Sealey all the Straights were at 
the mansion. Flora stepped up to the mantlepiece. 
She opened the door of the clock, and, lightly touching 
the pendulum, the machinery was set in motion. The 
clock had been wound in advance for this purpose. 

Mrs. Straight looked at her husband and the latter 
returned the glance. They seemed to call to mind the 
hour when the clock had stopped and the incidents 
of that time. 

Flora’s movement was the signal for Mrs. Sealey 
to speak. Addressing Mr. Straight, she said: 

“ 1 informed Mr. Skaggs of my intention to vacate this 
residence to-day, and he directed me to deliver the keys 
to you, which I now do. I hope that you will find 
everything just as you left it. You are now in pos- 
session, and I am, for the present, simply your guest.” 

Mr. Straight understood well enough that the property 
would be returned to him without a sale, but confessed 
surprise at this formality at this time. 

Flora smiled and Grade wept, for the latter was 
altogether unprepared for this scene. Mrs. Straight, how- 
ever, with that dignity which never left her, and 


VAIDEN HALL YIELDS UP ITS SECRET. 273 

liad, heretofore, been one of the principal elements of her 
social influence, replied : 

“ Madam — ” 

“ Miss Eldon, if you please, mother,” broke in Flora ; 
“ Mrs. Sealey no more ; that name was merely assumed 
as a means of disguise.” 

“It is as Flora says. I could not appear here in my 
right name ; you all know the reason,” said Miss Eldon. 

“ Well ! You give us a new surprise,” continued Mrs. 
Straight. “ Our obligations and gratitude to you are 
more than we can express, and we trust that you will 
consider this house with all it contains, except some 
articles we will select from its furniture for special 
reasons, your own.” 

“Yes,” added Mr. Straight; “we had determined on 
this, and I directed Mr. Skaggs to draw up and tender 
you the deed — ” 

“ Hold ! ” interrupted Miss Eldon, apparently disturbed 
by this information. 

“ If you would accept it,” resumed Mr. Straight, “ as 
an evidence of how highly we appreciate you personally, 
and as a small token of the high estimate we place upon 
your voluntary aid extended to us at a time when we 
needed just such a friend as you have been.” 

“Your regard is sufficient without this splendid home. 
It will give me more real pleasure to see you re-occupy 
it than to receive any gift you could make. Whatever 
advantage has resulted to you from my action in your 
affairs has simply been due to that affection I bear my 
nephew, my brother’s child, who, by the death of his 
parents, while an infant, became the sole object of my 


274 


VAJDEST HALL YIELDS UP ITS SECRET. 


love and care, and whom it has been my privilege and 
pleasure to assist in his hour of need.” 

“We are also prompted by another motive,” inter- 
posed Mrs. Straight, “one, perhaps, not altogether free 
from selfishness — our children have become so strongly 
attached to you” 

Miss Eldon’s feelings were deeply touched by this 
allusion. She, too, was somewhat selfish, and would let 
no gift take the place of that affection these children had 
for her. Grade rose from her seat and threw her arms 
beautiful in their rotundity and their pure white, marble- 
like color, around her neck, as she said, in a tone of the 
sweetest modulation : 

“ You do not know how much we all love you — Flora, 
perhaps, more than all the rest. For her sake, if for 
nothing else, we cannot let you leave us. Mother knows 
it, and is only trying to bribe you with this house to 
remain here.” 

“ Then,” replied Miss Eldon, “ I am more than com- 
pensated for any imagined service rendered. Having 
robbed your parents of a large portion of their children’s 
affection, I am really their debtor.” 

“The light is not diminished' in one direction because 
it shines in another,” said Gracie. ~ 

“ And affection you regard as somewhat analogous to 
light?” interrogatively suggested her father. 

“Yes; there is no decrease in it when it is directed 
toward different objects. Our love for our parents is not 
in the least diminished by our new affection for 
another.” 

“We shall no longer be troubled, mother,” remarked 


VAIDEN HALL YIELDS UP ITS SECRET. 276 

Flora, “ about a separation now ; my fears are relieved, 
and Grade’s will be when I tell her the secret.” 

It is superfluous to add, but it may be stated parenthet- 
ically, that Miss Eldon was as much at home as ever at 
the mansion as a member of this family. 

There was, at this moment, a knock at the front door. 

“A gentleman— he did not send his name,” said the 
servant who had answered the summons. 

There was no expression of surprise on Miss Eldon’s 
countenance, for she was evidently expecting her visitor. 
The latter did not wait for a formal announcement, but 
entered the parlor, where he was met by his aunt, who, 
with a beam of joy lighting up her whole face, brought 
him into the sitting-room. The pleasure felt by this 
family at the return of Frank Eldon can well be left to 
the imagination. 

Gustave Arden was at the hotel, in consultation with 
Edmon Auley. The success of the experiment of the 
evening before was related by the latter and the raid on 
Yaiden Hall, about dark, was planned. 

“Mrs. Burdotte will certainly make her appearance 
here before long,” said Arden, giving a succinct account 
of matters as they had occurred at the Springs after 
Edmon’s departure. 

“ She will move in haste, you think ? ” asked Auley, 
deeply interested in Gustave’s narrative. 

“ I cannot estimate the effect of Burdotte’s disconnected, 
delirious confession — jargon to others, but to her full of 
terrible import. If she had the faintest idea that his 
words had a meaning for my ear, I could not have pre- 
ceded her very long in a departure from the Springs.” 

17 


276 


VAIDEN HALL YIELDS UP ITS SECRET. 


“You think she knows her husband’s secret? ” 

w She clearly does, and feared he might divulge it in his 
dying moments. She watched him closely until the final 
breath left him. His last words startled her. She under- 
stood them, and I am inclined to believe for the first time 
she suspected me. Her suspicions will be confirmed on 
the road, if she did not absolutely detect the object of my 
attentions at the bedside of her dying husband. If she did 
she will not hesitate, even if disguised and alone she has 
to travel here, to adopt the method, chosen by Eldon and 
myself, of employing horses on the route at the stage 
offices ; but I doubt not that Captain Manning will be her 
escort, in which case they will hear of me along the 
road. W e must get through at the Hall early. If reports 
should arrive here, they will circulate rapidly.” 

“ It will be a hard ride for one like Mrs. Burdotte, not- 
withstanding her expertness in the saddle,” remarked 
Edmon, as he arose to leave, with the understanding that 
he was to return at sundown with Frank Eldon, when 
they would prepare for the raid on Yaiden Hall. 

It would have been remarkable, indeed, if nothing had 

reached R concerning the affair in the ball-room at 

the Springs. That event had disturbed the visitors on the 
night of the grand revel there to such an extent as actu- 
ally to have detracted much from the pleasures of the 
remainder of the evening. The character of the parties 
themselves gave importance and significance to the affair. 
Comment rapidly grew into exaggerated gossip, and per- 
sons who had come to the ball from a distance, and did 
not remain at the Springs after it was over, carried home 
with them that night, or the next day, the news of the 


VAIDEN HALL YIELDS UP ITS SECRET. 


277 


occurrence between Burdotte and Manning. The facts of 

the case had reached people in R . Later in the day 

information of the pending duel came, and certain friends 
of the parties involved grew much exercised over it and 
anxious to learn the result. Edmon Auley’s return from 
the Springs was hardly noticedo Indeed, but few of his 
acquaintances knew he had been there, or he might have 
been plied with questions. It was, however, rumored, 
early in the afternoon, that Frank Eldon had been seen 
boldly riding into town about mid-day, and that he had 
been followed to Mrs. Sealey’s, where all the Straights 
had assembled. This, in addition to the fact that there 
was a general understanding abroad that the mansion 
would be re-occupied shortly by its former owner, whose 
business would be resumed at once, augmented the inter- 
est in the sensational reports in circulation. The rumor 
that Eldon had arrived in R that day created amuse- 

ment with many, who said it was only his ghost that had 
been seen, while others regarded his return as quite 
likely, connected as Eldon must be with the secret of 
Mr. Straight’s unaccountable good luck in so short a 
time after their failure. 

Whether. Mrs. Toll felt the breeze likely to be stirred 
by the reports beginning to float on the social atmosphere 

of R or not, later that afternoon she called at Yaiden 

Hall. There, for the first time, she learned that Mrs. 
Banks’ condition was such that all visitors were, for the 
present, excluded from her presence. 

“ Mercy on me ! what can have happened ? ” she 
exclaimed ; then she asked the servant, who imparted 
this serious information, for further particulars. 


278 VAIDEN HALL YIELDS UP ITS SECRET. 

“Her mind is in a dreadful state. She raves about 
that room at the end of the passage in the north-east 
corner. It is a strange place, any way ! ” The servant 
held up both hands, as if in dread of the horror lurking 
in that particular apartment. 

“ What is there strange about the place which causes 
your mistress trouble ? ” asked Mrs. Toll, whose curi- 
osity had been excited. 

“ It is the chamber occupied by the Captain when he 
was here, and ever since he left it has been kept shut up 
as if it was haunted. Our mistress takes on dreadfully 
about it now — thinks she sees old Bailey Mullins’ ghost 
there, and says the oddest things about the Captain, as 
if he had murdered Mr. Mullins ! ” 

Mrs. Toll did not stop to hear more, but almost pre- 
cipitously fled. She was nearly out of breath when she 
arrived at the parsonage. Here she had been a frequent 
visitor of late, manifesting the greatest interest in the 
baby. She now took the infant from his nurse and 
dandled him on her lap until Mr. Lent came in. 

“ Can you tell me anything that’s going to happen ? ” 
she asked, in a hurried and excited manner, of the 
minister. 

“Nothing more than I suppose you have already 
heard,” replied Mr. Lent. 

• “ Indeed, I have heard nothing but what I just learned 
at Yaiden Hall.” 

“ Has the news reached there ? ” 

“ What news ? ” 

“ The news of the prospective duel, of course.” 

“ I heard nothing about a duel.” 


VAIDEN HALL YIELDS UP ITS SECRET. 


279 


“ What information did yon get there, then ? ” 

“That Mrs. Banks has a frightful spell of hallucination 
— imagines that Mr. Mullins’ ghost stalks about the pas- 
sage near the room once occupied by her son-in-law.” 

Mrs. Lent heard this in her chamber, for Mrs. Toll 
spoke rather above her usual tone, and sent an invitation 
for the visitor to come to her. Mr. Lent stated what he 
had been, a few moments before, apprised of by a friend 
in regard to the rumors afloat, and Mrs. Toll gave the 
history of her visit to Yaiden Hall. 

“ Murder will out ! ” said Mrs. Lent. 

“ Our suspicions must not make us uncharitable,” 
solemnly admonished the minister. 

“ True ; but people don’t go crazy over trifles. This 
is the second attack of dementia with which Mrs. Banks 
has been afflicted of late. Her conduct has been very 
mysterious to me. Mark my words. She has not con- 
jured up a mere fancy in Mr. Mullins’ ghost — it is a reflec- 
tion of the truth that haunts the vicinity of Burdotte’s 
room, and it has frightened Mrs. Banks out of her wits. 
This is the secret of her hysteria.” 

Mrs. Toll went directly from the parsonage to see the 
Straights. 

u Certainly, they must know something,” she thought. 

The ladies had just returned home from Mrs. Sealey’s 
when she arrived, and Mr. Straight, who had stopped at 
his lawyer’s office, came in shortly afterwards. 

“Poor Mrs. Banks!” exclaimed Mrs. Toll, after the 
first greeting. 

“What has happened at Yaiden Hall?” inquired Mrs. 
Straight at this ejaculation of their visitor. 


280 


VAIDEN HALL YIELDS UP ITS SECRET. 


“ Why, didn’t you know that Mrs. Banks is 
deranged?” 

“ No, indeed ! How did you hear that ? ” 

Mrs. Toll related the circumstance to the ladies, and 
repeated it to Mr. Sfraight when he entered the house. 

“ Her dementia will render her unconscious for the 
present of’ the' sequel, then,” remarked the latter. 

“ What is going to happen ? ” asked Mrs. Toll, 
now quite nervous with excitement, as she detailed her 
call at the parsonage and the remarks of Mrs. Lent. 

“ Madam,” said Mr. Straight, “ the facts can be kept 
concealed no longer. Captain Burdotte was killed in the 
duel, or he would have been arrested on two grave 
charges. A warrant for his arrest on a charge of murder 
and robbery, as the captain of a band of river pirates 
near New York, was issued a day or two ago.” 

Mrs. Toll raised her hands in horror .at this unexpected 
announcement, as she exclaimed : 

“ Oh ! Mr. Straight, what a blow to society ! ” 

“ It is, indeed, a terrible calamity, viewed in that light ! 
There is no doubt that this affair will knock society to 
pieces, literally shiver it to atoms ! ” replied Mr. Straight. 

Mrs. Toll returned to her home in quite a sad frame of 
mind. She had not looked for such a crash. All she 
had recently desired was Mrs. Banks’ overthrow as 

a leader of society in R ; but this fatal stioke came 

with the force of a moral earthquake, absolutely destroy- 
ing all social standing hereafter on the part of her former 
friend and associate ; the mistress of Y aiden Hall would 
be completely obliterated from the circle in which she 
had held such sway for so brief a period. Mrs. Toll felt 


VAIDEN HALL YIELDS UP ITS SECRET. 281 

anything but comfortable when she reflected that the 
public regarded her as the chosen companion and confi- 
dante of Mrs. Banks, and that this fact could not fail to be 
greatly to her disadvantage in every point of view. 

Arden’s intimations in regard to Mrs. Burdotte proved 
correct. She had observed Gustave closely during the 
scene at the Captain’s bedside, and her active brain began 
to weave together the various incidents in which lie had 
taken part during his sojourn at the Springs. He came 
there the day she and her husband arrived, making* their 
acquaintance on the coach before their arrival, and assid- 
uously maintaining a social freedom with them up to the 

present time. He knew Mrs. Sealey at B , and had 

known her before she went there. He was the first to 
notify her of Edmon Auley's appearance at the Springs, 
and Auley had brought with him the mute, who had 
been a silent witness of her husband’s crime. Arden and 
Edmon were remarkably friendly and intimate. Were 
they in each other’s confidence? Edmon had left the 
night before the duel quite suddenly — and strangely, too ! 
Gustave first notified her of the result of the duel and 
was quite officious in his proffer of aid; beyond this his 
silence was marked and significant. He had sought a 
statement from Jacques. What statement ? Why was 
he interested ? Why did he suggest it ? She had been 
almost paralyzed at the thought of any statement. Arden 
had heard her husband’s disconnected words, and was 
bending over him, earnestly striving to obtain something 
more ; and that glove was adroitly removed by his hand 
— she saw it done. The last breath was hardly out of 
Jacques’ mouth when Arden announced that he must 


282 


VAIDEN HALL YIELDS UP ITS SECRET. 


leave tlie Springs that afternoon. Did his business there 
end with Captain Burdotte’s death? She had learned 
that Gustave Arden had gone South, and suspense was 
becoming oppressive. 

A note was sent to her room which proved to be from 
Captain Manning. This was opportune, and she would 
use Manning further. Notwithstanding her strong mind, 
coupled with a courageous spirit, Dora Burdotte began to 
waver ; her strength was yielding before her great disap- 
pointment. Of all her trouble now, the absence of 
Edmon Auley gave her the greatest concern. If he had 
been at her side, there would have been no impatient 
anxiety, no dread suspense, no wavering doubts and no 
tormenting suggestions. As it was, she was left alone 
and without choice. She hastily pencilled a few words 
to Manning. Then she gave directions to the manager 

of the hotel to have her trunks sent by stage to R , 

that night, and at once prepared to leave the Springs. 

The remains of Captain Burdotte were forwarded late 
in the afternoon, her accounts were all settled about dark, 
and shortly thereafter Captain Manning, in disguise, 
assisted her into her saddle, and they departed together 

on horseback for R . The disguise adopted by the 

Captain was not for his protection — no warrant for his 
arrest had been issued and none would be, as it was 
not the custom to invoke the law in such cases at that 
time; its purpose was to shield Burdotte’s widow from 
scandal. The undertaking was desperately conceived, 
but the object justified it. Dora’s hasty flight was 
a pursuit. She must reach Vaiden Hall before Arden, 
and thus defeat his purpose. That room must be un- 


VAIDEN HALL YIELDS UP ITS SECKET. 283 ‘ 

sealed and its treasure removed and concealed where no 
mortal save herself could ever penetrate its hiding-place ; 
then the dumb would have to speak before the crime of 
Jacques Burdotte could bring its disgrace upon Vaiden 
Hall. 

Frank Eldon and Gustave Arden were only five hours 
in advance of their pursuer, who had determined not to 
rest until she entered Br— 5 — . Arden had bribed every 
groom on the road, at the stables where the exchanges of 
horses took place, to furnish them with a pair of the 
fastest travelers on hand ; hence at each stoppage for 
a change of animals Captain Manning found upon 
inquiry, made at Mrs. Burdotte’s request, that the distance 
between the pursuers and the pursued had increased. 
These disclosures troubled Dora, as they indicated that 

Arden was not only going to B , but also that he, 

with his companion, whoever the latter might be, was 
pushing forward with the utmost haste. Her anxiety 
created considerable curiosity in the mind of Captain 

Manning, if her intense desire to reach B did not 

dispose him to be somewhat jealous, especially when 
viewed in connection with her impatient reserve, which 
was so unlike her, and which could not be attributed to 
the shock of her husband’s death, as he well knew ; but 
nevertheless, he dare not venture to be inquisitive. 

On the last stage, it was clear that Dora Burdotte was 
breaking down. Captain Manning also felt the strain of 
the rapid journey. He was exceedingly anxious about 
his companion, especially as she refused all nourishment, 
although he offered to procure food for her at each 
station. 


284 


VAIDEN HALL YIELDS UP ITS SECRET. 


“You cannot understand my liaste,” she said; “and, 
besides, this ride night and day, without sleep and 
without food, may prove fruitless.” 

“ All this is very strange,” thought Manning. That 
this woman was merely making a tool of him did not 
suggest itself to his mind, nor did he for an instant imag- 
ine that he would be cast off and spurned in the same 
reckless spirit in which he had been made use of. 

R was now in sight. Its lights could be seen 

just below the hill. Mrs. Burdotte’s heart was thumping 
in unison with the quickened pacing shuffle of the horses’ 
hoofs. Her head swam and, ever and anon, she reeled in 
the saddle. 

“ Courage ! ” she whispered to herself. “ I’ll soon be 
there l” 

Vaiden Hall came into view as the horses were reined 
to the left. Dora saw the lights from its windows and 
her heart beat quicker. 

Arden, with Frank Eldon and Edmon Auley, had 
entered the grounds of Mrs. Banks’ residence some time 
before. 

“ You two must remain there as guards,” said Gustave, 
addressing his companions and pointing to a cluster of 
vines over which hung the extended branches of a huge 
shade tree near the front of the building. “ If I need 
you, I will give you the signal agreed upon.” 

Edmon and Frank seated themselves on a rustic bench 
near the spot designated. The vines were behind them. 

Arden ascended the steps and knocked at the door; 
when the latter was opened, he quickly stepped into the 
hallway, and inquired for Mrs. Banks. 


VAIDEX HALL YIELDS UP ITS SECRET. 285 

“ Oh ! Lordy ! you can’t see her I ” 

“ Why?” 

“Doctor says so, and you’d b’lieve him, if you knowed 
what I does.” 

“ What’s the matter now? ” 

“ Scared, this time bad — clean out o’ her wits, sure ! ” 
“ Very well, you’ll answer. Take me to Captain Bur- 
dotte’s room.” 

“ Can ’t do dat — no, indeedy ! Cap’n don ’t ’low no 
sich doin’s. Missus darsn’t. Dat room done it fur her ! ” 
u Captain Burdotte is dead ! ” 

“ What’s dat ? See here — no more foolin’ ! Dar’s 
’bout ’nough now, wid ole Nan dyin’ b’low and missus in 
a bad fix. How ’s' Dorry ? ” 

“She’s coming home — will be here to-night. I came 
to bring your mistress the news.” 

“ You say he ’s sure ’nough dead ? ” 

“ I left him a corpse. But I can’t stand here talking. 
I must go to his room. If your mistress was here she 
wouldn’t delay, but would take me there at once.” 

“ Oh ! Lordy ! no, she wouldn’t ! She’s scared ’bout 
dat very room.” 

“ What about it ? Tell me quick ! ” 

“ Ghost tliar she thinks.” 

“ What else?” 

“ Don’t know nothin’ else. Sumthin’ hid in dat yar 
room, I ’spose ; leastwise ole Nan sed it. She seed ’im, 
Jakies, I mean, take it tliar the night Mr. Mullins was 
killed.” 

The servant was a timid colored boy. hie appeared to 
be terrified by the ghost of that room, and was in no 


286 


VAIDEX HALL YIELDS UP ITS SECRET. 


hurry to move, until Arden, impatient of the delay, 
seized the light, and, with a show of authority, ordered 
him to lead the way to the dreaded chamber. 

“I am an officer of the law,” he said, “come here 
to arrest that ghost, and, unless you obey me, I will take 
you along when I go ” 

The boy now moved with alacrity, spurred on by this 
threat. When they had ascended the first flight of 
stairs and reached the forbidden passage, he said : 

“ Dis yar’s it ! Now, let me go, marse ! ” 

“ No ! I want you to see me catch the ghost ! There 
are other officers down there on the grounds. Better 
stay with me. There might be some trouble below? 
and you might get shot ! ” 

This had the desired effect. Arden produced a chisel 
and prepared for his work. The seals of the door were 
broken off, and in a moment the latter was forced open. 

“Now, you see,” he said, as they entered the apart- 
ment, “ there is no ghost here ; but, perhaps, he is in this 
chest.” As Arden uttered these words he drew the box 
from under the bed. 

Gustave stooped down, and, taking hold of one corner 
of the chest, inserted the chisel beneath the lid ; then he 
gave a powerful jerk and the lid flew up with a report 
like that of a pistol, he thought ; but he could have 
sworn that the report was outside, and that he distin- 
guished it from that of the breaking lock. 

“ Dey’s shootin’ down thar ! ” said the boy, trembling. 

“ Oh ! no ! They have orders not to shoot unless they 
see a ghost. Now, don ’t be scared. I am going to give 
you a dollar when I leave here.” 


VAIDEN HALL YIELDS UP ITS SECRET. 287 

While making these remarks, the detective was 
engaged in examining the contents of the chest, and when 
he had completed this work he shut down the lid, pushed 
the box back under the bed and, slipping a silver coin 
into his timid companion’s hand, returned to the passage, 
closing the door behind him. He had secured certain 
packages he needed. 

A strange sight presented itself at the opposite end of 
the corridor. Mrs. Banks in a fit of hallucination had 
broken out of her chamber, and her nurse was laboring 
to induce her to return. 

“ It’s her ! ” exclaimed the boy, badly frightened 
at the prospect of the detection of his grave offense. 

“Don’t be alarmed,” said Arden, “at anything you see. 
I am in possession here, and no one will be disturbed. ” 

“ There ! Didn’t I tell you they knew the secret ! ” 

The delirious woman, in her white gown, stood staring 
wildly and pointing to Arden as he advanced. As the 
nurse appeared to be bewildered at this unexpected inva- 
sion of the privacy of the Hall at this hour, Gustave said 
to her as he passed : 

“You have no cause to be alarmed; we are friends of 
the law. Get the lady back to her room.” Arden has- 
tened down the stairway, and as he went he saw that the 
whole house was aroused. 

There was a confused murmur at the hall door, which 
now flew open as he reached it, and the bleeding form of 
a lady, carried in the arms of his two companions, greeted 
his sight on the threshold. He glanced into the pale face 
and shuddered as he recognized the features. 

When Mrs. Burdotte and Captain Manning rode up 


288 VAIDEN HALL YIELDS UP ITS SECRET. 

the carriage-way to the front of the Hall, they reined in 
just in the rear of the vines where Frank Eldon and 
Edmon Auley sat, awaiting orders or a signal from Arden. 
The light in the room, formerly occupied by Captain 
Burdotte, could not be observed by Dora from where she 
was ; had she seen it, her suspicions would have, at once, 
been aroused. 

Throwing the bridle rein she held to Manning, she 
immediately dismounted, without assistance, and said : 

“Captain Manning, I thank you for the courtesy 
shown by you to the widow of the man you murdered ! 
Good-bye ! 

It was a wild, heroic u good-bye,” uttered in a voice 
weakened by the weariness of overexertion and excited 
by overwrought expectation. 

“ Dora ! ” exclaimed her companion, startled by this 
unexpected language, “ would you drive me from you 
thus and to-night? ” 

“Yes ! — and forever ! ” 

“ Am I in my senses? Do I hear aright, or is this some 
wild fancy — a delusion come over me beneath the frown 
of these walls? Do you, indeed, mean to dismiss me, and 
is it to be, as you say, forever? Speak, Dora, and 
quickly! I must know to-night the destiny you have 
fixed for me ! ” 

“I mean what I say! Do you think I could do more 
than make a tool of a murderer? ” 

The tone of her voice gave emphasis to her words, as 
with her outstretched hand she waved him away. 

There was a sudden flash and the report of a pistol. 
Frank Eldon’s grasp was instantly on the bridle of Man- 


YAIDEN HALL YIELDS UP ITS SECRET. 


289 


ning’s horse, but too late. Mrs. Burdotte fell, with a 
shriek, into Edmon Auley’s arms. The horse wheeled, 
with a quick plunge, as it felt the prick of Manning’s 
spurs, and galloped off. In a few seconds another pistol 
report was heard out on the carriage-way. Captain 
Manning’s body was found shortly afterwards and con- 
veyed to the police station. The duelist had committed 
suicide. 

Mrs. Burdotte recovered from the first shock. 

“ Where am I ? ” she exclaimed, on looking up. 
“Edmon, it is, then, indeed, you? Why are you here? 
Speak — tell me ! ” 

“ The cause which brought you to this spot to-night in 
such haste, with the man who has attempted to murder 
you, must also answer for my presence,” replied Edmon 
Auley, confused by the question and more bewildered 
still by his situation. 

“ Do you know the secret of that room ? ” she asked, 
placing her hand convulsively on his arm. 

u Yes; all is revealed ! ” 

“ Oh ! no, not all. It only came to my knowledge 
after my marriage ; even now mother does not know it. 
It was Yaiden Hall, believe me, for which I sold myself! 
But quick! Bear me to my mother! I am dying! Say 
you believe my statement!” 

“I do.” 

It was the only comfort Edmon Auley could offer her. 

Mrs. Banks was yet wandering about the upper pas- 
sage-way ; as the fainting, helpless form of her daughter 
was borne along, she came forward and looked upon her. 

“Has she come at last? Dora, my darling, speak to 


290 


VAIDEN HALL YIELDS UP ITS SECRET. 


me. My poor girl is dead!” she cried, weeping 
hysterically. 

Dora Burdotte was borne to the chamber of death; 
her last word was “ Edmon!” 

The blood of the Burdottes became extinct with the 
death of Mrs. Banks, which occurred shortly after the 
funeral of her daughter. 

********* 

Three weddings were in due time celebrated at the 
mansion, the happy couples being Frank Eldon and 
Grade Straight, Edmon Auley and Flora Straight, and 
Mr. Skaggs and Miss Eldon. Mrs. Auley was delighted 
when Mrs. Chapel consented to make her home at her 
country-seat. Dunny-Deaf was educated in the deaf and 
dumb curriculum. Mr. Lent recalled his letter of resig- 
nation, but subsequently his congregation was forced into 
an independent attitude. Young Lent fared well at the 
hands of Mrs. Toll. Society was restored to its old con- 
dition, with Mrs. Straight once more at its head. 

R is now a populous and beautiful city. Among 

its noted public buildings is the Mute Asylum, known to 
those who remember the incident of the disposal of 
Yaiden Hall, at public sale, to make good a deficiency in 
the assets of Bailey Mullins’ estate, that arose through a 
misuse of funds by Captain Jacques Burdotte while he 
was the self-constituted trustee of the same, as “ The 
Silent Witness.” 


THE END. 


A SWEEPING REDUCTION I 

All our 12 mo. Cloth Books are Reduced to 
$1.50 a Copy, including all the Works of 

Mrs. Southworth, Mrs. Ann S. Stephens, 
Mrs. Hentz, Mrs. Warfield, 

Miss Dupuy, Dumas, etc., etc. 

As well as other Books formerly published 
by us at $1.75 each. 


CATALOGUE OF BOOKS 

PUBLISHED BY 

T. B. PETERSON and BROTHERS, 

PHILADELPHIA, PA., 

And for sale by all Booksellers. 


Any of the Books named in this Catalogue will be sent by mail, to 
any one, to any place, at once, post-paid, on remitting the price of the ones 
wanted to T. B. PETERSON & BROTHERS, Philadelphia, Pa. 


T. B. PETERSON AND BROTHERS, 

306 Chestnut Street, Philadelphia, 

Desire to direct the close attention of all lovers of good novel reading to the 
Works and authors contained in their new catalogue, just issued. A strict scrutiny is 
solicited, because the books enumerated in it are among the most popular now 
in existence. In supplying your wants and taste in the reading line, it is of the first 
importance that you should give special attention to what is popularly designated en- 
tertaining reading matter. No library is either attractive or complete without a col- 
lection of novels and romances. The experience of many years has demonstrated 
that light reading is essential to even the most studious men and women, furnishing 
the mind with healthful recreation ; while to the young, and to those that have not 
cultivated a taste for solid works of science, it forms one of the best possible training 
schools, gradually establishing, in a pleasant manner, that habit of concentration of 
thought absolutely necessary to read understandingly the more ponderous works, 
which treat of political economy, the sciences, and of the arts. 

We publish and sell at very low rates, full and varied editions of the works of 
all the famous American and Foreign Novelists, whose writings are very entertain- 
ing, specially adapted for all readers. The most of them are bound in strong cloth 
binding, and also in paper covers. Examination is asked for our editions of the 
writings of Mrs. Emma D. E. N. Southworth, whose romances are always in 
demand; Mrs. Ann S. Stephens, the well-known favorite; Mrs. Henry Wood, 
the authoress of “ East Lynne ; ” Mrs. Caroline Lee Hentz, whose stories of 
Southern life stand unparalleled in their simple truth and exquisite beauty ; Mrs. C. 
A. Warfield, another very popular Southern writer; Miss Eliza A. Dupuy, who 
has made a wonderful mark ; Mrs. F. H. Burnett, the authoress of “ Theo ; ” the 
charming and pathetic French and Russian romances^of Henry Greville; the 
wonderful and famous fictions of Gustave F laubert ; the brilliant and artistic works 
of Octave Feuillet ; the highly finished and powerful stories of Ernest Daudet ; 
the popular and pleasing productions of Prosper Merimee; the beautiful and 
touching love tales of the celebrated George Sand ; the clever and intensely inter- 
esting writings of Jules Sandeau; the exciting and ingenious novels of Adolphe 
Belot; the picturesque and enchaining works of Madame Angele Dussaud ; the 
exquisitely pathetic romances of the Princess Altieri ; the strong and graphic 
productions of Andre Theuriet ; the wild frontier sketches of Gustave Aimard ; 
the classic and refined works of Madame De Stael ; the absorbing and vivid fic- 
tions of Alexander Dumas, Pere ; the natural and forcible novels of Alexander 
"Dumas, Fils ; the startling and mysterious romances of Eugene Sue ; the trenchant 
and unique narratives of Victor Hugo ; the realistic novels of Emile Zola, which 
have had a sale in this country unparalleled in the history of recent book-making; 
ef great interest is Sir Walter Scott, whose “ Waverley ” novels still maintain 
a strong h<xd on the people. Charles Dickens’ complete writings we furnish in 
every variety of style. We publish also the weird stories ofGEORGE Lippard ; the 
martial novels of Charles Lever ; the comical nautical tales of Captain Marryat; 
Emerson Bennett's Indian stories ; Henry Cockton’s laughable narratives ; T. 
S, Arthur's temperance tales and household stories ; the wonderful and entertain- 
ing novels of Eugene Sue and W. H. Ainsworth ; the quiet domestic novels of 
Fredrika Bremer and Ellen Pickering; the masterly novels of Wilkie Col- 
lins ; Frank Fairlegh’s quaint stories, and Samuel Warren’s elaborate ro- 
mances ; the works of Mrs. C. J. Newby, Mrs. Grey, and Miss Pardoe ; W. H. 
Herbert’s sporting stories; and the graphic Italian romances of T. A. Trollope; 
•Iso the fascinating writings of G. P. R. James, Mrs. S. A. Dorsey, Sir Edward 
Bulwer Lytton, James A. Maitland, The Shakspeare Novels, Charles G. 
Leland (Hans Breitmann), Dow’s Patent Sermons, Doesticks, and Henry 
Morford, as well as Francatelli’s, Miss Leslie’s, and all the best Cook Books ; 
Petersons “ Dollar Series of Good Novels;” Petersons’ “Sterling Series” of 
-entertaining books ; Petersons’ popular “ Square i2mo. Series” of excellent stories; 
logether with hundreds of others, by the best authors in the world. 

Look over our Catalogue, and enclose a Draft or Post Office Order for five, 
ten, twenty, or fifty dollars, or more, to us in a letter, and write for what books 
you wish, and on receipt of the money, or a satisfactory reference, the books will 
be packed and sent to you at once, in any way you may direct Address all orders t« 

T. B. PETERSON & BROTHERS, Publishers, 

306 Chestnut Street, Philadelphia, Pa# 


T. B. PETERSON m BROTHERS’ PUBLICATIONS. 


Iggp Orders solicited from Booksellers, Librarians, Canvassers, News 
Agents, and all others in want of good and fast-selling 
books, which will be supplied at very Low Rates. 


MRS. E. D. E. N. SOUTH W ORTH’S FAMOUS WORKS. 

Complete in forty-three large duodecimo volumes , bound in morocco cloth , gilt back* 
price $ 1.50 each ; or $ 64.50 a set, each set is put up in a neat box. 

Ishmael ; or, In the Depths, being Self-Made; or, Out of Depths.... $1 5& 
Self-Raised; or, From the Depths. Sequel to “ Ishmael.” 1 5G 


The Mother-in-Law,.. $1 50 

The Fatal Secret, 1 50 

How He Won Her, 1 50 

Fair Play, 1 50 

The Spectre Lover, 1 50 

Victor’s Triumph, 1 50 

A Beautiful Fiend, 1 50 

The Artist’s Love, 1 50 

A Noble Lord, 1 50 

Lost Heir of Linlithgow, 1 50 

Tried for her Life, 1 50 

Cruel as the Grave, 1 50 

The Maiden Widow, 1 50 

The Family Doom, 1 50 

The Bride’s Fate, 1 50 

The Changed Brides, 1 50 

Fallen Pride, 1 50 

The Widow’s Son, 1 50 

The Bride of Llewellyn, 1 50 


The Deserted Wife, 1 50 

The Fortune Seeker, 1 50 

The Bridal Eve, 1 50 

The Lost Heiress, 1 50 

The Two Sisters, 1 50 

Lady of the Isle, 1 50 

Prince of Darkness, 1 50 

The Three Beauties, 1 50 

Vivia ; or the Secret of Power, 1 50 

Love’s Labor Won, 1 50 

The Gipsy’s Prophecy, 1 50 

Retribution, 1 50 

The Christmas Guest, 1 50 

Haunted Homestead, 1 50 

Wife’s Victory, 1 50 

Allworth Abbey, 1 50 

India; Pearl of Pearl River,.. 1 50 

Curse of Clifton, 1 50 

Discarded Daughter, 1 50 

The Mystery of Dark Hollow,.. I 50 


The Fatal Marriage, 1 50 

The Missing Bride; or, Miriam, the Avenger, 1 50 

The Phantom Wedding; or, The Fall of the House of Flint, 1 50 

Above are each bound in morocco cloth, price $1.50 each. 
Self-Made; or, Out of the Depths. By Mrs. Emma D. E. N. Southworth. 
Complete in two volumes, cloth, price $1.50 each, or $3.00 a set. 

CAROLINE LEE HENTZ’S EXQUISITE BOOKS. 

Complete in twelve large duodecimo volumes , bound in morocco cloth, gilt back, 
price $ 1.50 each; or $ 18.00 a set , each set is put up in a neat box. 


Ernest Linwood, $1 50 

The Planter’s Northern Bride,.. 1 50 

Courtship and Marriage, 1 50 

Rena; or, the Snow Bird, 1 50 

Marcus Warland, 1 50 


Love after Marriage, $1 50 

Eoline; or Magnolia Vale, 1 50 

The Lost Daughter, 1 50 

The Banished Son, 1 50 

Helen and Arthur, 1 50 


Linda ; or, the Young Pilot of the Belle Creole, 3 50 

Robert Graham; the Sequel to “ Linda; or Pilot of Belle Creole,”... 1 50 
Above are each bound in morocco cloth, price $1.50 each. 


Above Books will be sent, postage paid, on receipt of Retail Prioe, 
by T. B. Peterson & Brothers, Philadelphia, Pa. (1) 


2 T. B. PETERSON & BROTHERS’ PUBLICATIONS. 


MRS. ANN S. STEPHENS’ FAVORITE NOVELS. 

CompU.te in twenty-three large duodecimo volumes , hound in morocco cloth, gilt back x 
price $1.50 each ; or $34.50 a set , each set is put up in a neat box . 

Norston’s Rest, $1 50 i The Soldiers’ Orphans, $1 50 

Bertha’s Engagement, 1 50* A Noble Woman, 1 50 

Bellehood and Bondage, 1 50 Silent Struggles, r. 1 50 


The Old Countess, 1 50 

Lord Hope’s Choice, • 1 50 

The Reigning Belle, 1 50 

Palaces and Prisons, 1 50 

Married in Haste, 1 50 

Wives and Widows, 1 50 

Ruby Gray’s Strategy, 1 50 


The Rejected Wife, 1 50 

The Wife’s Secret, 1 50 

Mary Derwent, 1 50 

Fashion and Famine, *... 1 50 

The Curse of Gold, 1 50 

Mabel’s Mistake, 1 50 

The Old Homestead, 1 50 


Doubly False, 1 50 | The Heiress, 1 50 | The Gold Brick,... 1 50 

Above are each bound in morocco cloth, price $1.50 each. 

MISS ELIZA A. DUPUY’S WONDERFUL BOOKS. 

Complete in fourteen large duodecimo volumes, hound in morocco cloth , gilt back , price 
$1.50 each; or $21.00 a set, each set is put up in a neat box. 


A New Way to Win a Fortune $1 50 

The Discarded Wife, 1 50 

The Clandestine Marriage, 1 50 

The Hidden Sin, 1 50 

The Dethroned Heiress, 1 50 

The Gipsy’s Warning, 1 50 

All For Love, 1 50 


Why Did He Marry Her? $1 50 

Who Shall be Victor? 1 50 

The Mysterious Guest, 1 50 

Was He Guilty? 1 50 

The Cancelled Will, 1 50 

The Planter’s Daughter, 1 50 

Michael Rudolph, 1 50 


Above are each bound in morocco cloth, price $1.50 each. 


LIST OF THE BEST COOK BOOKS PUBLISHED. 

Every housekeeper should possess at least one of the following Cook Books, as they 
would- save the price of it in a week's cooking. 

Miss Leslie’s Cook Book, a Complete Manual to Domestic Cookery 

in all its Branches. Paper cover, $1.00, or bound in cloth, $1 50 

The Queen of the Kitchen; or, The Southern Cook Book. Con- 
taining 1007 Old Southern Family Receipts for Cooking, ...Cloth, 1 50 

Mrs. Hale’s New Cook Book, Cloth, 1 50 

Petersons’ New Cook Book, Cloth, 1 50 

Widdifield’s New Cook Book, Cloth, 1 50 

Mrs. Goodfellow’s Cookery as it Should Be,.... Cloth, 1 50 

The National Cook Book. By a Practical Housewife, Cloth, 1 50 

The Young Wife’s Cook Book, Cloth, 1 50 

Miss Leslie’s New Receipts for Cooking, Cloth, .1 50 

Mrs. Hale’s Receipts for the Million, Cloth, 1 50 

The Family Save-All. By author e e “ National Cook Book,” Cloth, 1 50 

Francatelli’s Modern Cook Book. With the most approved methods 
of French, English, German, and Italian Cookery. With Sixty- 
two Illustrations. One vol., 600 pages, bound in morocco cloth, 5 00 


Above Books will be sent, postage paid, on receipt of Retail Priot, 
by T. B. Peterson & Brothers, Philadelphia, Pa. 


T. B. PETERSON & BROTHERS’ PUBLICATIONS. 3 


MRS. C. A. WARFIELD’S POPULAR WORKS. 

Complete in nine large duodecimo volumes , hound in morocco cloth , gilt back, price 
$1.50 each; or $13.50 a set , each set is put up in a neat box. 

The Cardinal’s Daughter, $1 50 Miriam’s Memoirs, $1 50 

Feme Fleming, 1 50 Monfort Hall, 1 50 

The Household of Bouverie,.,.. 1 50 Sea and Shore, 1 50 

K Double Wedding, 1 50 Hester Howard’s Temptation,... 1 50 

Lady Ernestine; or, The Absent Lord of Rocheforte, 1 5® 

Above are each bound in morocco cloth, price $1.50 each. 

FREDRIXA BREMER’S DOMESTIC NOVELS. 

Complete in six large duodecimo volumes, bound in cloth , gilt back, price $1.50 each ; 
or $9.00 a set , each set is put up in a neat box. 

Father and Daughter, $1 50 l The Neighbors, $1 50 

The Four Sisters, 1 50 | The Home, 1 50 

Above are each bound in morocco cloth, price $1.50 each. 

Life in the Old World. In two volumes, cloth, price, 3 00 

0. K. PHILANDER DOESTICKS’ FUNNY BOOKS. 

Complete in four large duodecimo volumes , bound in cloth , gilt back , price $1.50 
each ; or $6.00 a set, each set is put up in a neat box. 

Doesticks’ Letters, $1 50 j The Elephant Club, $1 50 

Plu-Ri-Bus-Tah, 1 50 | Witches of New York, 1 50 

Above are each bound in morocco cloth, price $1.50 each. 

JAMES A. MAITLAND’S HOUSEHOLD STORIES. 

Complete in seven large duodecimo volumes , bound in cloth . gilt back , price $1.50 
each ; or $10.50 a set , each set is put up in a neat box. 

.$1 50 


The Watchman, $1 50 

The Wanderer, 1 50 

The Lawyer’s Story, 1 50 


Diary of an Old Doctor,. 

Sartaroe, 1 50 

The Three Cousins, 1 50 


The Old Patroon ; or the Great Van Broek Property, 1 50 

Above are each bound in morocco cloth, price $1.50 each. 

T. ADOLPHUS TROLLOPE’S ITALIAN NOVELS. 

Complete in seven large duodecimo volumes, bound in cloth, gilt hack , price $1.50 
each ; or $10.50 a set, each set is put up in a neat box. 

The Sealed Packet, $1 50 i Dream Numbers,.. $1 50 

Garstang Grange, 1 50 I Beppo, the Conscript, 1 50 

Leonora Casaloni,... 1 50 | Gemma, 1 50 | Marietta, 1 50 

Above are each bound in morocco cloth, price $1.50 each. 

FRANK FORESTER’S SPORTING SCENES. 


Frank Forester’s Sporting Scenes and Characters. By Henry William 
Herbert. A New, Revised, and Enlarged Edition, with a Life of the 
Author, a New Introductory Chapter, Frank Forester’s Portrait and 
Autograph, with a full length picture of him in his sheoting costume, 
and seventeen other illustrations, from original designs by Darley and 
Frank Forester. Two vols., morocco cloth, bevelled boards, $4.00. 


Above Books will be sent, postage paid, on receipt of Retail Price, 
by T. B. Peterson & Brothers, Philadelphia, Pa. 


4 T. B, PETERSON & BROTHERS’ PUBLICATIONS. 


WILKIE COLLINS’ BEST BOOKS. 

Basil; or, The Crossed Path..$l 50 | The Dead Secret. 12mo $1 50 

Above are each in one large duodecimo volume, bound in cloth. 


The Dead Secret, 8vo 75 

Basil; or, the Crossed Path, 75 

Hide and Seek, 75 

After Dark, 75 

The Stolen Mask, 25 | The Yellow Mask,... 25 | Sister Rose,.. 

The above books are each issued in paper cover, in octavo form. 

EMERSON BENNETT’S INDIAN STORIES. 

Complete in seven large duodecimo volumes , bound in cloth, gilt back , price $ 1.50 
each ; or $ 10.50 a set, each set is put up in a neat box. 


The Queen’s Revenge, 75 

Miss or Mrs ? 50 

Mad Monkton, 50 

Sights a-Foot, 50 

25 


The Border Rover,. 

Clara Moreland, 

The Orphan’s Trials,. 


.$1 

, 1 
. 1 


Bride of the Wilderness,. 

Ellen Norbury, 

Kate Clarendon 


.$1 


50 
l 50 
1 50 


Viola; or Adventures in the Far South-West, 1 50 

Above are each bound iu morocco cloth, price $1.50 each. 

The Heiress of Bellefonte, 75 | The Pioneer’s Daughter, 75 

GREEN’S WORKS ON GAMBLING. 

Complete in four large duodecimo volumes, bound in cloth, gilt back, price $ 1.50 
each ; or $ 6.00 a set, each set is put up in a neat box. 

50 


The Reformed Gambler, $1 50 

50 | Secret Band of Brothers, 1 50 


Gambling Exposed, $1 

The Gambler’s Life, 1 

Above are each bound in morocco cloth, price $1.50 each. 

LOW’S PATENT SERMONS. 

Complete in four large duodecimo volumes, bound in cloth, gilt back, price $ 1.26 
each ; or $ 5.00 a set, each set is pul up in a neat box. 


Dow’s Patent Sermons, 1st 

Series, cloth, $1 25 

Dow’s Patent Sermons, 2d 
Series, cloth 1 25 


Dow’s Patent Sermons, 3d 

Series, cloth, $1 25 

Dow’s Patent Sermons, 4th 
Series, cloth, 1 25 


Above are each in cloth, or each one is in paper cover, at $1.00 each. 

GEORGE SAND’S GREATEST NOVELS. 


Jealousy, 12rao., cloth,. 
Indiana, 12mo., cloth,. 


Consuelo, 12mo., cloth, $1 50 

Countess of Rudolstadt, 1 50 

Above are each published in 12mo., cloth, gilt side and back. 
Fanchon, the Cricket, paper cover, 50 cents, or fine edition, in cloth, 
First and True Love. With 11 Illustrations. Paper, 75 cents ; cloth, 


Consuelo. Paper cover, 

Simon. A Love Story, 

The Countess of Rudolstadt. 


75 I The Corsair, 

50 I The Last Aldini,. 


The Sequel to Consuelo. Paper cover, 

MISS BRADDON’S FASCINATING BOOKS. 


50 

50 

50 

00 

50 

50 

75 


Aurora Floyd, 75 

Aurora Floyd, cloth 1 00 


The Lawyer’s Secret, 25 

For Better, For Worse, 75 


Above Books will he sent, postage paid, on receipt of Retail Price, 
by T. B, Peterson & Brothers, Philadelphia, Pa. 


T. B. PETERSON & BROTHERS’ PUBLICATIONS. 5 


CHARLES DICKENS’ WORKS. ILLUSTRATED. 

This edition is printed from large type, octavo size, each hook being complete 
in one large octavo volume, bound in Morocco Cloth , with Gilt Character 
Figures on back, and Medallion on side, price $1.50 each, or $27.00 a set , 
contained in eighteen volumes, the whole containing near Six Hundred 
Illustrations , by Cruikshauk, Phiz, Iirowne, Maclise, and other artists. 
The Pickwick Papers. By Charles Dickens. With 32 Illustrations, .$1.50 
Nicholas Nickleby. By Charles Dickens. With 37 Illustrations,.... 1 50 

David Copperfield. By Charles Dickens. With 8 Illustrations, 1 50 

Oliver Twist. By Charles Dickens. With 24 Illustrations, 1 50 

Bleak House. By Charles Dickens. With 38 Illustrations, 1 50 

Dombey and Son. By Charles Dickens. With 38 Illustrations, 1 50 

Sketches by “ Boz.” By Charles Dickens. With 20 Illustrations,... 1 50 

Little Dorrit. By Charles Dickens. With 38 Illustrations, 1 50 

Our Mutual Friend. By Charles Dickens. With 42 Illustrations ... 1 50 
Great Expectations. By Charles Dickens. With 34 Illustrations,... 1 50 
Lamplighter’s Story. By Charles Dickens. With 7 Illustrations,... I 50 

Barnaby Budge. By Charles Dickens. With 50 Illustrations, 1 50 

Martin Chuzzlewit. By Charles Dickens. With 8 Illustrations, 1 50 

Old Curiosity Shop. By Charles Dickens. With 101 Illustrations,. 1 50 

Christmas Stories. By Charles Dickens. With 12 Illustrations, 1 50 

Dickens’ New Stories. By Charles Dickens. With portrait of author, 1 50 
A Tale of Two Cities. By Charles Dickens. With 64 Illustrations,. 1 50 
Charles Dickens’ American Notes and Pic-Nic Papers, 1 50 

BOOKS BY THE VERY BEST AUTHORS. 

The following boohs are each issued in one large duodecimo volume , 


bound in morocco cloth, price $1.50 each. 

The Initials. A Love Story. By Baroness Tautpboeus,.... $1 50 

Married Beneath Him. By author of “ Lost Sir Massingberd,” 1 50 

Margaret Maitland. By Mrs. Oliphant, author of “ Zaid'ee,” 1 50 

Family Pride. By author of “ Pique,” “ Family Secrets,” etc 1 50 

The Autobiography of Edward Wortley Montagu, 1 50 

The Forsaken Daughter. A Companion to “Linda,” ,1 50 

Love and Liberty. A Revolutionary Story. By Alexander Dumas, 1 50 

The Morrisons. By Mrs. Margaret Hosmer, 1 50 

The Rich Husband. By author of “ George Geith,” 1 50 

The Lost Beauty. By a Noted Lady of the Spanish Court, 1 50 

My Hero. By Mrs. Forrester. A Charming Love Story, 1 50 


The Quaker Soldier. A Revolutionary Romance. By Judge Jones,.... 1 50 
Memoirs of Vidocq, the French Detective. His Life and Adventures, 1 50 
The Belle of Washington. With her Portrait. By Mrs. N. P. Lasselle, 1 50 
High Life in Washington. A Life Picture. By Mrs. N. P. Lasselle, 1 50 
Courtship and Matrimony. By Robert Morris. With a Portrait,... 1 50 

The Jealous Husband. By Annette Marie Maillard, 1 50 

The Conscript; or, the Days of Napoleon 1st. By Alex. Dumas,.... 1 50 
Cousin Harry. By Mrs. Grey, author of “ The Gambler’s Wife,” etc. 1 50 
Above books are each bound in morocco cloth, price $1.50 each. 


Above Books will be sent, postage paid, on receipt of Retail Price, 
by T. B. Peterson & Brothers, Philadelphia, Pa. 


6 T. B. PETERSON & BROTHERS* PUBLICATIONS, 


WORKS BY THE VERY BEST AUTHORS. 

The following hooks are each issued in one large duodecimo volume , 
hound in morocco cloth, price $1.50 each . 

The Count of Monte-Cristo. By Dumas. Illustrated, paper $1.00,..$1 50 


The Countess of Monte-Cristo. Paper cover, price $1.00,- or cloth,.. 1 50 

Camille; or, the Fate of a Coquette. By Alexander Dumas, 1 50 

Love and Money. By J. B. Jones, author of the “ Rival Belles,”... 1 50 
The Brother's Socret ; or, the Count De Mara. By William Godwin, 1 55 
The Lost Love. By Mrs. Oliphant, author of “ Margaret Maitland,” 1 50 

The Bohemians of London. By Edward M. Whitty, 1 50 

Wild Sports and Adventures in Africa. By Major W. C. Harris, 1 50 

The Life, Writings, and Lectures of the late “ Fanny Fern,” 1 50 

The Life and Lectures of Lola Montez, with her portrait, 1 50 

Wild Southern Scenes. By author of “Wild Western Scenes,” 1 50 

Currer Lyle ; or, the Autobiography of an Actress. By Louise Reeder. 1 50 

The Cabin and Parlor. By J. Thornton Randolph. Illustrated, 1 56 

The Little Beauty. A Love Story. By Mrs. Grey, 1 50 

Lizzie Glenn ; or, the Trials of a Seamstress. By T. S. Arthur, 1 50 

Lady Maud ; or, the Wonder of Kingswood Chase. By Pierce Egan, 1 50 

Wilfred Montressor ; or, High Life in New York. Illustrated, 1 50 

Lorrimer Littlegood, by author “Harry Coverdale’s Courtship,” 1 50 

Married at Last. A Love Story. By Annie Thoraa«, 1 50 

Shoulder Straps. By Henry Morford, author of “ Days of Shoddy,” 1 50 

Days of Shoddy. By Henry Morford, author of “Shoulder Straps,” 1 50 

The Coward. By Henry Morford, author of “ Shoulder Straps,” 1 50 

Above books are each bound in morocco cloth, price $1.50 each. 

The Roman Traitor. By Henry William Herbert. A Roman Story, 1 75 
The Last Athenian. By Victor Rydberg. From the Swedish, 1 75 


MRS. HENRY WOOD’S BEST BOOKS, IN CLOTH. 

The following are cloth editions of Mrs. Henry Wood’s best, books , and they 
are each issued in large octavo volumes, bound in cloth , price $1.75 each. 
Within the Maze. By Mrs. Henry Wood, author of “East Lynne,” $1 75 

The Master of Greylands. By Mrs. Henry Wood, 1 75 

Dene Hollow By Mrs. Henry Wood, author of “Within the Maze,” 1 75 
Bessy Rane. By Mrs. Henry Wood, author of “ The Channings,”.... 1 75 
George Canterbury’s Will. By Mrs. Wood, author “Oswald Cray,” 1 75 
The Channings. By Mrs. Henry Wood, author of “ Dene Hollow,”... 1 75 

Roland Yorke. A Sequel to “ The Channings.” By Mrs. Wood, 1 75 

Shadow of Ashlydyatt. By Mrs. Wood, author of “ Bessy Rane,”.... 1 75 
Lord Oakburn’s Daughters; or The Earl’s Heirs. By Mrs. Wood,... 1 75 
Verner’s Pride. By Mrs. Henry Wood, author of “ The Channings,” 1 75 
The Castle’s Heir; or Lady Adelaide’s Oath. By Mrs. Henry Wood, 1 75 
Oswald Cray. By Mrs. Henry Wood, author of “ Roland Yorke,”.... 1 75 

Squire Trevlyn’s Heir; or Trevlyn Hold. By Mrs. Henry Wood, 1 75 

The Red Court Farm. By Mrs. Wood, author of “Verner’s Pride,” 1 75 

Elster’s Folly. By Mrs. Henry Wood, author of “ Castle’s Heir,”... I 75 

St. Martin’s Eve. By Mrs. Henry Wood, author of “Dene Hollow,’ 1 76 
Mildred Arkell. By Mrs. Henry Wood, author of “East Lynne,” 1 76 


Above Books will be sent, postage paid, on receipt of Retail Price, 
by T. B. Peterson & Brothers, Philadelphia, Pa. 


T. B PETERSON & BROTHERS’ PUBLICATIONS. 7 


ALEXANDER DUMAS’ ROMANCES, IN CLOTH. 

J*he follotoing are cloth editions of Alexander Dumas ’ works , and they are 
each issued in large octavo volumes, hound in cloth , price $1.50 each. 

The Three Guardsmen ; or, The Three Mousquetaires. By A. Dumas, $1 50 
Twenty Years After; or the (t Second Series of Three Guardsmen,” ... 1 50 
Bragelonne; Son of Athos ; or “ Third Series of Three Guardsmen ,” 1 50 
The Iron Mask; or the “ Fourth Series of The Three Guardsmen,”.... 1 50 
Louise La Valliere. The Sequel to li The Iron Mask.” Being the 


u Fifth Book and End of the Three Guardsmen Series,” 1 50 

The Memoirs of a Physician ; or, Joseph Balsamo. Illustrated, 1 50 


Queen’s Necklace; or “Second Series of Memoirs of a Physician,” 1 50 
Six Years Later; or the “ Third Series of Memoirs of a Physician,” 1 50 
Countess of Charny : or “ Fourth Series of Memoirs of a. Physician,” 1 50 
Andree De Taverney; or “ Fifth Series of Memoirs of a Physician,” 1 50 
The Chevalier. The Sequel to “ Andree De Taverney.” Being the 


“ Sixth Book and End of the Memoirs of a Physician Series 1 50 

The Adventures of a Marquis. By Alexander Dumas, 1 50 

The Forty-Five Guardsmen. By Alexander Dumas. Illustrated,... 1 50 
Diana of Meridor, or Lady of Monsoreau. By Alexander Dumas,... 1 50 
The Iron Hand. By Alex. Dumas, author “Count of Monte-Cristo,” 1 50 

Camille; or the Fate of a Coquette. (La Dame aux Camelias,) 1 50 

The Conscript. A novel of the Days of Napoleon the First, i 1 50 

Love and Liberty. A novel of the French Revolution of 1792-1793, 1 50 


THE “COUNT OF MONTE-CRISTO SERIES,” IN CLOTH. 

The Count of Monte-Cristo. By Alexander Dumas. Illustrated,... 1 50 

Edmond Dantes. The Sequel to the “ Count of Monte-Cristo,” 1 25 

The Countess of Monte-Cristo. The Companion to “ Monte-Cristo,” 1 50 
The Wife of Monte-Cristo. Continuation of “Count of Monte-Cristo,” 1 25 
The Son of Monte-Cristo. The Sequel to “Wife of Monte-Cristo,” 1 25 


T. S. ARTHUR’S GREAT TEMPERANCE BOOKS. 


Six Nights with the Washingtonians, Illustrated. T. S. Arthur’s 
Great Temperance Stories. Large Subscription Edition, cloth, gilt, 

$3.50; Red Roan, $4.50; Full Turkey Antique, Full Gilt, 6 00 

The Latimer Family ; or the Bottle and Pledge. By T. S. Arthur, cloth, I 00 


MODEL SPEAKERS AND READERS. 


Comstock’s Elocution and Model Speaker. Intended for the use ( f 
Schools, Colleges, and for private Study, for the Promotion of 
Health, Cure of Stammering, and Defective Articulation. By 
Andrew Comstock and Philip Lawrence. With 236 Illustrations.. 2 #0 
The Lawrence Speaker. A Selection of Literary Gems in Poetry and 
Prose, designed for the use of Colleges, Schools, Seminaries, Literary 
Societies. By Philip Lawrence, Professor of Elocution. 600 pages.. 2 00 
Comstock’s Colored Chart. Being a perfect Alphabet of the English 
Language, Graphic and Typic, with exercises in Pitch, Force and 
Gesture, and Sixty-Eight colored figures, representing the various 
postures and different attitudes to be used in declamation. On a largo 
Roller. Every School should have a copy of it.. 5 00 


£gT Above Books will be sent, postage paid, on receipt of Retail Prior- 
by T. B. Peterson & Brothers, Philadelphia, Pa. 


8 T. B. PETERSON & BROTHERS’ PUBLICATIONS. 


WORKS BY THE VERY BEST AUTHORS. 

The following books are each issued in one large octavo volume , bound in 
cloth , at $1.50 each , or each one is done up in paper cover , at $1.00 each. 

The Wandering Jew. By Eugene Sue. Full of Illustrations, $1 50 

Mysteries of Paris; and its Sequel, Gerolstein. By Eugene Sue,.... 1 50 

Martin, the Foundling. By Eugene Sue. Full of Illustrations, 1 50 

Ten Thousand a Year. By Samuel Warren. With Illustrations,.... 1 50 
The following books are each issued in one large octavo volume , bound in 
cloth , at $2.00 each, or each one is done up in paper cover , at $1.50 each. 

Washington and His Generals. By George Lippard, 2 00 

The Quaker City; or, the Monks of Monk Hall. By George Lippard, 2 00 

Blanche of Brandywine. By George Lippard, 2 00 

Paul Ardenheim; the Monk of Wissahickon. By George Lippard,. 2 00 
The Mysteries of Florence. By Geo. Lippard, author “ Quaker City,” 2 00 
The Pictorial Tower of London. By W. Harrison Ainsworth, 2 50 

The following are each issued in one large octavo volume, bound in cloth, price $1.50 
each , or a cheap edition is issued in paper cover, at lb cents each. 

Charles O’Malley, the Irish Dragoon. By Charles Lever, Cloth. $1 50 

Harry Lorrequer. With his Confessions. By Charles Lever,. ..Cloth, 1 50 

Jack Hinton, the Guardsman. By Charles Lever, doth, 1 50 

Davenport Dunn. A Man of Our Day. By Charles Lever, ...Cloth, 1 50 

Tom Burke of Ours. By Charles Lever, Cloth, 1 50 

The Knight of G wynne. By Charles Lever,...-. Cloth, 1 50 

Arthur O’Leary. By Charles Lever, Cloth, 1 50 

Con Cregan. By Charles Lever, Cloth, 1 50 

Horace Templeton. By Charles Lever, Cloth, 1 50 

Kate O’Donoghue. By Charles Lever, Cloth, 1 50 

Valentine Vox, the Ventriloquist. By Harry Cockton, Cloth, 1 50 

HUMOROUS ILLUSTRATED BOOKS. 

Each one is full of Illustrations, by Felix O. C. Darley, and bound in Cloth . 
Major Jones’ Courtship and Travels. In one vol., 29 Illustrations, .$1 75 


Major Jones’ Scenes in Georgia. With 16 Illustrations, 1 5P 

Swamp Doctor’s Adventures in the South-West. 14 Illustrations,... 1 50 

Col. Thorpe’s Scenes in Arkansaw. With 16 Illustrations, 1 50 

High Life in New York, by Jonathan Slick. With Illustrations,.... 1 50 

Piney Wood’s Tavern; or, Sam Slick in Texas. Illustrated, 1 50 

Humors of Falconbridge. By J. F. Kelley. With Illustrations, ... 1 50 

Simon Suggs’ Adventures and Travels. With 17 Illustrations, 1 50 

The Big Bear’s Adventures and Travels. With 18 Illustrations, 1 50 

Judge Haliburton’s Yankee Stories. Illustrated, 1 50 

Harry Coverdale’s Courtship and Marriage. Illustrated, 1 50 

Lorrimer Littlegood. Illustrated. By author of “ Frank Fairlegh,” 1 50 
Neal’s Charcoal Sketches. By Joseph C. Neal. 21 Illustrations,... 2 50 

Major Jones’s Courtship. 21Illustrations. Paper, 75 cents, cloth, 1 00 

Major Jones’s Travels. 8 Illustrations. Paper, 75 cents, cloth, 1 00 

Major Jones’s Georgia Scenes. 12 Illustrations. Paper, 75 cents, eloth, 1 00 
Raney Cottem’s Courtship. . 8 Illustrations. Paper, 50 cents, cloth, 1 00 


Above Books will bo sent, postage paid, on receipt of Retail Prise, 
by T. B. Peterson & Brothers, Philadelphia, Pa. 


T. B. PETERSON & BROTHERS’ PUBLICATIONS. 9 


STANDARD NOVELS, BY BEST WRITERS. 

Consuelo. By George Sand. One volume, 12mo., bound in cloth,.. .$1 50 
The Countess of Rudolstadt. Sequel to “ Consuelo.” 12mo., cloth,.. 1 50 
Indiana. A Novel. By George Sand, author of “ Consuelo,” cloth, 1 50 
Jealousy ; or, Teverino. By George Sand, author “ Consuelo,” cloth, 1 50 
Fanchon, the Cricket ; or, La Petite Fadette. By George Sand, cloth, 1 50 

The Dead Secret. By Wilkie Collins, author of “ Basil,” cloth, 1 50 

The Crossed Path; or Basil. By Wilkie Collins, cloth, 1 50 

John Jasper’s Secret. Sequel to u Mystery of Edwin Droodf cloth,... 1 50 
The Life of Charles Dickens. By Dr. R. Shelton Mackenzie, cloth, 1 50 
The Lamplighter’s Story, with others. By Charles Dickens, cloth,... 1 50 
The Old Stone Mansion. By author of “ Heiress of Sweetwater, ” cloth, 1 50 
Lord Montagu’s Page. By G. P. R. James, author' Cavalier/ cloth, 1 50 
The Earl of Mayfield. By Thomas P. May, doth, black and gold,.. 1 50 

Myrtle Lawn. A Novel. By Robert E. Ballard, cloth, 1 50 

Corinne; or, Italy. A Love Story. By Madame de Stael, cloth,.... 1 00 
Cyrilla; or Mysterious Engagement. By author of “ Initials,” cloth, 1 00 

Treason at Home. A Novel. By Mrs. Greenough, cloth, 1 50 

Letters from Europe. By Colonel John W. Forney. Bound in cloth, 1 50 

Frank Fairlegh. By author of “ Lewis Arundel,” cloth, 1 50 

Lewis Arundel. By author of “ Frank Fairlegh,” cloth, 1 50 

Harry Racket Scapegrace. By the author of “ Frank Fairlegh,” cloth, 1 50 

Tom Racquet. By author of “ Frank Fairlegh,” cloth, 1 50 

Sam Slick, the Clockmaker. By Judge Haliburton. Illustrated,... 1 50 

Modern Chivalry. By Judge Breckenridge. Two vols., each 1 50 

LaGaviota; the Sea-Gull. By Fernan Caballero, cloth, 1 50 

Aurora Floyd. By Miss M. E. Braddon. Bound in cloth, 1 00 

The Laws and Practice of the Game of Euchre and Draw Poker, 

as adopted by the Euchre Club of Washington, D. C. Cloth, 1 00 

Youth of Shakspeare, author “Shakspeare and His Friends,” cloth, 1 25 
Shakspeare and His Friends, author “ Youth of Shakspeare,” cloth, 1 25 
The Secret Passion, author of “ Shakspeare and His Friends,” cloth, 1 25 
Father Tom and the Pope; or, A Night at the Vatican, illus., cloth, 1 00 

Poetical Works of Sir Walter Scott. One 8vo. volume, cloth, 2 50 

Life of Sir Walter Scott. By John G. Lockhart. With Portrait, 2 50 

Tales of a Grandfather & History of Scotland, by Walter Scott, cloth, 2 50 
Life of Napoleon Bonaparte, by Sir Walter Scott. One 8vo. vol., cloth, 2 50 
Miss Pardoe’s Choice Novels. In one large octavo volume, cloth,... 4 00 
Life, Speeches and Martyrdom of Abraham Lincoln. Illus., cloth,.. 1 50 
Rome and the Papacy. A History of the Men, Manners and Tempo- 
ral Government of Rome in the Nineteenth Century, cloth, 1 50 

The French, German, Spanish, Latin and Italian Languages Without 
a Master. Whereby any one of these Languages can be learned 

without a Teacher. By A. H. Monteith. One volume, cloth, 2 00 

Liebig’s Complete Works on Chemistry. By Justus Liebig, cloth,... 2 00 

Life and Adventures of Don Quixote and Sancho Panza, cloth, 1 50 

Tan-go-ru-a. An Historical Drama, in Prose. By Mr. Moorhead,.... 1 00 

The Impeachment Trial of President Andrew Johnson. Cloth, 1 50 

Trial of the Assassins for the Murder of Abraham Lincoln. Cloth,... 1 50 


Above Books will be sent, postage paid, on receipt of Retail Price, 
by T. B. Peterson & Brothers, Philadelphia, Pa. 


12 T. B. PETERSON & BROTHERS’ PUBLICATIONS. 


Orders solicited from Booksellers, Librarians, Canvassers, Newt 
Agents, and all others in want of good and fast-selling 
books, which will be supplied at very Low Bates. «^|i 


EMILE ZOLA’S NEW REALISTIC BOOKS. 

Nana! Sequel to L’Assommoir. By Emile Zola. Nana! Price 75 cents 
in paper cover, or $1 .00 in morocco cloth, black and gold. Nana ! 

L’Assommoir; or, Nana’s Mother. By Emile Zola, The Greatest Novel 
over printed. Price 75 cents in paper cover, or $1.00 in cloth. 

The Joys of Life. By Emile Zola , author of “Nana,” “ Pot Bouille,” etc. 
Price 75 cents in paper cover, or $1.25 in morocco cloth, black and gold. 

The Ladies’ Paradise; or, The Bonheur des Dames. By Emile Zola, author 
of “ Nana.” Paper cover, 75 cents; or $1.25 in cloth, bbick and gold. 

Her Two Husbands; and Other Novelettes. By Emile Zola. Price 75 
cents in paper cover, or $1.25 in morocco cloth, black and gold. 

Pot-Bouille. By Emile Zola, author of “Nana.” “ Pot-Bouille.” Price 
75 cents in paper cover, or $1.25 in morocco cloth, black and gold. 

Nana’s Daughter. A Continuation of and Sequel to Emile Zola’s Grrat 
Realistic Novel of “ Nana.” Price 75 cents in paper, or $1.00 in cloth. 

The Mysteries of the Court of Louis Napoleon. By Emile Zola. Pnee 
75 cents in paper cover, or $1.25 in cloth, black and gold. 

The Girl in Scarlet; or, the Loves of SilvSre and Miette. By Emile Zoca. 
Price 75 cents in paper cover, or $1.25 in cloth. 

Albine ; or, The Abbe’s Temptation. ( La Faute De V Abbe Mouref.) By 
Emile Zola . Price 75 cents in paper, or $1.25 in cloth, black and gold. 

La Belle Lisa; or, The Paris Market Girls. By Emile Zola. Price 
cents in paper cover, or $1.25 in morocco cloth, black and gold. 

Helene, a Love Episode; or, (Jtie Page 1)’ Amour. By Emile Zota . 
Price 75 cents in paper cover, or $1.25 in cloth, black and gold. 

A Mad Love; or The Abb£ and His Court. By Emile Zola. Price 75 
cents in paper cover, or $1.25 in cloth, black and gold. 

Magdalen Ferat. By Emile Zola , author of “Nana,” and “ L’Assom- 
moir.” Paper cover, 75 cents, or $1.25 in cloth, black and gold. 

Claude’s Confession. By Emile Zola, author of “ Nana,” “ L’Assommoir, ” 
“ Helene,” etc. Price 75 cents in paper cover, or $1.25 in cloth. 

The Mysteries of Marseilles. By Emile Zola, author of “ Nana.” Price 
50 cents in paper cover, or $1.00 in cloth, black and gold. 

In tho Whirlpool. {La Curee.) By Emile Zola f author of “ Nana.” 
Paper cover, 75 cents; or $1.25 in cloth, black and gold. 

ThSrese Raquin. By Emile Zola , author of “Nana.” Price 75 cents ia 
paper cover, or $1.00 in morocco cloth, black and gold. 

ADOLPHE BELOT’S INGENIOUS NOVELS. 

The Black Venus. By Adolphe Belot. Paper cover, 75 cents ; cloth, $1.00. 

La Grande Florine. By Adolphe Belot . Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.00. 

The Stranglers of Paris. By Adolphe Belot. Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.00. 


All Books published by T. B. Peterson & Brothers, Philadelphia, Pa* 
will be sent to any one, postage paid, on reoeipt of Retail Price^ 


T. B. PETERSON & BROTHERS’ PUBLICATIONS. 13 


PETERSONS’ SQUARE 12mo. SERIES. 

The following books are printed on tinted paper, and are issued in uniform 
style. , in square 12 mo. form. Price 50 Cents in Paper, or $1.00 in Cloth. 
Helen’s Babies. Budge and Toddie. By John Habberton. With an 
Illustrated Cover, and Portraits of “ Budge” and “ Toddie/’ and others. 
Mrs. Mayburn’s Twins. With the Mother’s Trials in the Morning, After- 
noon and Evening. By John Habberton, author of “ Helen’s Babies.” 
Bertha’s Baby. Equal to “ Helen’s Babies.” Bertha’s Baby. With an 
Illustrated Cover, and a Portrait of “ Bertha’s Baby” on it. 

The Annals of a Baby. Baby’s First Gifts. Naming the Baby. The 
Baby’s Party. Aunt Hannah, etc. By Mrs. Sarah Bridges Stebbins. 
Bessie’s Six Lovers. With Her Reflections, Resolves, Coronation, and 
Declaration of Love. A Charming Love Story. By Henry Peterson. 
Two Kisses. A Bright and Snappy Love Story. By Hawley Smart. 

Her Second Love. A Thrilling Life-like and Captivating Love Story. 

A Parisian Romance. Octave Ftuillet’s New Book, just dramatized. 
Faachon, the Cricket; or, La Petite Fadette. By George Sand. 

Two Ways to Matrimony ; or, Is it Love? or, False Pride. 

The Matchmaker. By Beatrice Reynolds. A Charming Love Story. 

The Story of Elizabeth. By Miss Thackeray, daughter of W. M. Thackeray. 
The Amours of Philippe; or, Philippe’s Love Affairs, by Octave Feuillet. 
Sybil Brotherton. A Novel. By Mrs. Emma D. E. N. Southworth. 
Raney Cottem’s Courtship. By author of “Major Jones’s Courtship.” 
Father Tom and the Pope; or, A Night at the Vatican. Illustrated. 

A Woman’s Mistake; or, Jacques de Trevannes. A Charming Love Story. 
The Days of Madame Pompadour. A Romance of the Reign of Louis XV. 
The Little Countess. By Octave Feuillet, author of “Count De Camors.” 
The Red Hill Tragedy. By Mrs. Emma D. E. N. Southworth. 

The American L’Assommoir. A parody on Zola’s “ L’Assommoir.” 

Hyde Park Sketches. A very humorous and entertaining work. 

Miss Margery’s Roses. A Charming Love Story. By Robert C. Meyers. 
Madeleine. A Charming Love Story. Jules Sandeau’s Prize Novel. 
Carmen. By Prosper Merimee. Book the Opera was dramatized from. 
That Girl of Mine. By the author of “ That Lover of Mine.” 

That Lover of Mine. By the author of “ That Girl of Mine.” 

PETERSONS’ SQUARE 12mo. SERIES. 

The Wife of Monte-Cristo. Continuation of “ Count of Monte-Cristo.” 
The Son of Monte-Cristo. The Sequel to “The Wife of Monte-Cristo/' 
Married Above Her. A Society Romance. By a Lady of New York. 

The Man from Texas. A Powerful Western Romance, full of adventure. 
Erring, Yet Noble. A Book of Women and for Women. By I. G. Reed. 
The Fair Enchantress; or, How She Won Men’s Hearts. By Miss Keller. 

Above are in paper cover , price 7b cents each, or $1.25 each in cloth. 
Harry Coverdale’s Courtship and Marriage. Paper, 75 cts. ; cloth, $1.50. 
Those Pretty St. George Girls. Paper cover, 75 cents, cloth, gilt, $1.00. 
The Prairie Flower, and Leni-Leoti. Paper cover, 75 cents, cloth, $1.00. 
Camille; or, The Fate of a Coquette. Paper, 75 cents, cloth, gilt, $1.25. 
Vidocq ! The French Detective. Illustrated. Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.00, 


All Books published by T. B. Peterson & Brothers, Philadelphia, Pa., 
will be sent to any one, postage paid, on receipt of Retail Price. 


14 T. B. PETERSON & BROTHERS’ PUBLICATIONS. 


PETERSONS’ SQUARE 12mo. SERIES. 

Major Jones’s Courtship. 21 Illustrations. Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.00, 
Major Jones’s Georgia Scenes. 12 Illustrations. Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.00. 
Major Jones’s Travels. 8 Illustrations. Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.00, 
Simon Suggs’ Adventures. 10 Illustrations. Paper, 75 cts., cloth, $1.00. 
Louisiana Swamp Doctor. 6 Illustrations. Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.00. 
The Initials. ‘A. Z/ By Baroness Tautphoeus. Paper, 75 cts., cloth, $1.25. 
Indiana ! A Love Story. By George Sand. Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.00, 
Monsieur, Madame, and the Baby. Paper cover, 75 cents, cloth, $1.00. 
L’Evang61iste. By Alphonse Daudet. Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.25. 
The Duchesse Undine. By H. Penn Diltz. Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.25. 
The Hidden Record. By E. W. Blaisdell. Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.25. 
Consuelo. By George Sand. Paper cover, Price 75 cents; cloth, $1.00. 
Countess of Rudolstadt. Sequel to Consuelo. Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.00. 
The Changed Brides. By Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth. Paper, 75 cts. 
The Bride’s Pate. By Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth. Paper, 75 cents. 
Self-Raised; or, From the Depths. By Mrs. Southworth. Paper, 75 cts. 
Ishmael; or, in the Depths. By Mrs. Southworth. Paper, 75 cents. 
The Fatal Marriage. By Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth. Paper, 75 cents 
The Bridal Eve; or, Rose Elmer. By Mrs. Southworth. Paper, 75 cents. 
A Russian Princess. By Emmanuel Gonzales. Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.00. 
A Woman’s Perils; or, Driven from Home. Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.25. 
A Fascinating Woman. By Edmond Adam. Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.25. 
La Faustin. By Edmond de Goncourt. Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.25. 
Monsieur Le Ministre. By Jules Claretie. Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.25. 
Winning the Battle; or, One Girl in 10,000. Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.25. 
A Child of Israel. By Edouard Cadol. Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.00. 
The Exiles. The Russian ‘ Robinson Crusoe/ Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.00. 
My Hero. A Love Story. By Mrs. Forrester. Paper, 75 cts., cloth, $1.00. 
Paul Hart; or, The Love of His Life. Paper cover, 75 cents, cloth, $1.25, 
Mildred’s Cadet; or, Hearts and Bell-Buttons. Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.00, 
Bellah. A Love Story. By Octave Feuillet. Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.00. 
Sabine’s Falsehood. A Love Story. Paper, price 75 cents, cloth, $1.00. 
Linda ; or, The Young Pilot of the Belle Creole. Paper, 75 cts., cloth, $1.25. 
The Woman in Black. Illustrated Cover. Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.00. 
Madame Bovary. By Gustave Flaubert. Paper, 7~5 cents, cloth, $1.00. 
The Count de Camors. By Octave Feuillet. Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.25. 
How She Won Him! A Love Story. Paper cover, 75 cents, cloth, $1.25, 
Angdle’s Fortune. By Andre Theuriet. Paper cover, 75 cents, cloth, $1.25, 
St. Maur; or, An Earl’s Wooing. Paper cover, price 75 cents, cloth, $1.25. 
The Prince of Breffny. By Thomas P. May. Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.50. 
The Earl of Mayfield. By Thomas P. May. Paper, 75 cents, cloth, $1.00. 

THE “COUNT OF MONTE-CRISTO SERIES/’ 

The Count of Monte-Cristo. Illustrated. Paper cover, $1.00, cloth, $1.50, 
Edmond Dantes. Sequel to “ Monte-Cristo.” Paper, 75 cts., cloth, $1.25. 
The Countess of Monte-Cristo. Paper cover, $1.00, morocco cloth, $1.50. 
The Wife of Monte-Cristo. Paper cover, 75 cents, morocco cloth, $1.25. 
The Son of Monte-Cristo. Paper cover, 75 cents, morocco cloth, $1.25. 


All Books published by T. B. Peterson & Brothers, Philadelphia, Pa., 
will be sent to any one, postage paid, on receipt of Retail Price. 




% 





















































































































































. 































































































































































































































































































































































































































































